Promise
by penguinfighter-d-chan
Summary: In a tribute to Silent Hill, House comes to work in a most usually foggy day and sets out to find the reason behind it all only to discover a most tragic and horrifying turn of events. Season 5 before "Birthmarks"
1. Foggy Day

A/N: Second attempt at posting a House MD story.

I actually enjoy writing this one better because it just felt more natural and right with the current season. Yes, this is a crossover with Silent Hill. Hope to put up most if not the entire story by month's end, to keep up with the mood. As with SH tradition, there will be multiple endings, depending on what you, the reader, would want the story to end, not by House's actions.

House, characters (c) Fox; Silent Hill (c) Konami

* * *

The day started out unusually foggy, even by Dr. Greg House's standards. New Jersey was always covered in a light blanket of smog and said atmospheric phenomenon but that day; it just seemed heavier than normal. _Must be a cold front coming in…guess I'm taking the bike today…_the renowned diagnostician thought while popping a Vicodin pill into his mouth and putting on a leather jacket.

The motorcycle trip to Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital was even stranger; there was a nearly null level of activity of people and cars bustling the streets and sidewalks. The TV sets inside the shops were static-ridden; channels were incoherently switching from one signal to another. Even the Starbucks where House got his daily breakfast routine was devoid of human interaction save for the scrawny adolescent clerk. "Morning."

The clerk's voice was a little shaky as he replied the greeting. "T-the u-usual?" "Black and put in a Reuben while you're at it." Nitpicking the young man's rather sloppy workmanship, even a monkey could tell that he was nervous.

"What? Is your regional manager coming over to see how you butcher a perfectly simple order?" House snapped. "Get your act together and fix my sandwich; it's getting a little runny around the left side." The clerk quickly finished the transaction and faster than House could come up with a complaint, he was gone. _Total customer satisfaction my ass._

As the diagnostician exited the store, he noticed the fog had become even heavier. He also noticed the clerk running out the back door, hoping onto a motorized scooter and speeding off into the streets. _A loyal Starbucks employee abandoning his post, God forbid there should be lunch rush hour…_ House thought as he took a sip from his cardboard cup. He almost had the urge to spit it out but quickly remembered that this was twenty times better than the sewerage served at the hospital. _That kid owes me 3.15 for a crappy cup of coffee._

--

Never once until he arrived at PPTH did House find the day's circumstances unnerving; not the emptying streets, not the lack of car movement at the ever-changing traffic lights (irritating the man to no end) or the fact that the Starbucks employee had no taste in the fine art of making an overpriced drink and would rather run away.

Just like the streets, the hospital was full of cars but no people. It was a massive labyrinth of Mercedes-Benz, Hondas, Toyotas, an occasional Volvo and, of course, ambulances whose state varied from brand-new to near collapse. But House was more interested in who had the nerve to park on his space.

"I'm going to kill Foreman," he growled as he contemplated the guilty car. As much as he wanted to vandalize it, House held off his urges and climbed on to his motorcycle once more. After a couple of minutes of parking hunting; he finally found one close to the center of the massive lot, meaning he'd have to continuously limp at least 10 minutes just to get to the hospital's main entrance. Even worse, the fog had now become so damn thick that he couldn't see more than ten feet in front of him. House took another Vicodin and readied himself for a long and winding walk.


	2. The Parking Lot

A/N: Hehehehe, No Face Guy...To those who played the games, ever noticed there's always a guy who has his face eaten off at the beginning of the game? And the same guy who writes the notes that help you with the controls? Quick side-note. Cookie to whoever figures out what killed No Face Guy.

House, characters (c) Fox; Silent Hill, No Face Guy, ect (c) Konami

* * *

Halfway through the first line of cars, House managed to snap out of his mindset to spot what seemed like a large puddle of red paint between the second and third rows. Interest piqued, the diagnostician hobbled his way to the source on the middle road. Once he found it, he instinctively flinched back before taking a closer look.

The corpse was well beyond recognition; nearly 40 percent of his (yes, House could tell it was still a man) torso looked torn apart and dissolved. Blood even seeped into House's sneakers as he poked the body with his cane. "Eww, these are brand-new! Now I got No Face Guy blood all over them!" he whined while trying to wipe some off.

_This looks like wolves or wild dogs ate him…but how the hell did they get to an inner city hospital in Jersey is beyond me…_House asked himself. _Well, no use crying over spilled body parts._

After tossing away the dirty Starbucks napkins, House limped between the third and fourth lane cars and back to the open road in the middle. The fog had managed to momentarily disorient the diagnostician on his current position, not quite sure if he was getting closer or farther from the hospital's main entrance.

He leaned on a Chevy Cavalier to catch his breath, take another pill and locate himself. "All right, let's see where north is," House said to himself before dropping his cane to the floor.

The long end of the cane pointed parallel to him, telling him to keep moving forward to the end of the car lane. As he agonizingly bent down to get it, the diagnostician felt something wet and mildly sticky on his fingertips. It was a crimson trail that led under the car and continued in a direction contrary to what the cane signaled. _Here's a dilemma; keep on going to the hospital and report to Clinic duty or follow the creepy blood trail?_ It didn't take House a second to make his decision; blood trail it is.

He carefully removed himself from the car and fixated himself to follow the red tracks. Strangely enough, the blood paths looked as if something was crawling its way under the cars. _Safe to assume that whatever's making these trails is the same person who killed No-Face Guy,_ House assumed as he limped his way to the fifth car connected by the blood.

No sooner than he thought that, he heard a mildly sputtering noise of a scooter. House spun around as best as he could as he located the sinewy young man that had attended him just an hour ago. _It's that traitorous Starbucks clerk I saw this morning!_ The diagnostician realized. "Hey!" he yelled, catching the clerk's attention while limping towards his target. "You owe me three-fifteen for that piece of sh…"

Before House could finish his tirade, the Starbucks clerk was suddenly pulled under the sixth-lane cars. The diagnostician raced to his position with help of the clerk's screams, hoping to see what had done it, but whatever it was moved to fast for him to catch up. The Starbucks clerk's screams continued for two more seconds until a great crackling sound was heard.

_That sounded like it hurt…_ House quipped as he caught his breath. _But serves him right for making horrible coffee._ The diagnostician suddenly realized where he was; House was just two parking lanes away from the hospital's main entrance park.

Even through the fog, he could see the perfectly constructed greenery Cuddy had commissioned just a few weeks ago. "Thank you Cuddy and your manicured bush obsession!" House exclaimed, glad he was almost out of the parking lot and away from No-Face Guy, the now possibly dead Starbucks clerk and the thing that killed them both.


	3. Cuddy's Lawn and Wilson's Phone

A/N: Next chapter up! Hope you enjoy it!

House (c) FOX, the Fog world (c) Konami

Once he sat on a bench close by, House realized he had a cell phone in his jacket. It was Wilson's iPhone; the oncologist somehow "lost track" of it two days earlier, before he resigned from Princeton-Plainsboro. "Would you look at that? I could've called in sick and never had come here in the first place." House mused as he turned the item on. Not even checking the battery status, he quickly dialed Cuddy's office telephone only to hear the occupied tone. "What the?"

The phone oddly read "Out-of-Range", odd considering that normally the entrance plaza had great reception in days past. "Hmph! Note to self, tell Wilson his carrier sucks." House told himself while terminating the call. Suddenly, the once fully charged phone flashed the low-battery icon and died on him. "Now this is just plain bad luck."

He sat there for a couple of seconds, admiring the unnervingly lazy environment and thinking what just happened. _First the fog, next the collective disappearing people trick, now a killer car thief that eats people…Cuddy should up the security a bit._ House rubbed the back of his neck and stood up. Suddenly, he had an uncontrollable urge to go back into the parking lot and check on No-Face Guy, despite his better judgment. _I know I'm gonna regret it…_

The distance between the main entrance and where House had originally spotted the mangled corpse was considerably less now that he knew how to get back. But once he was there, there was nothing left of No-Face Guy; just the puddle of dried up blood where he once was. _Where'd No-Face go!? _In a rare moment, House couldn't come up with a good enough explanation for this.

The diagnostician heard a nearing squishing noise three cars behind the spot and, instead of taking his chances with the unknown; he limped away as fast as he could back to the front entrance park. The fog was just as unrelenting, no change in visibility. "Might as well go in…not like things are any better here than the free Clinic." House reasoned blatantly.

However, the closer he got to the front door, the more House realized something too was wrong with the teaching hospital; most of the windows and glass doors were lined with newspaper, completely covering the inside of the building. "I don't remember Cuddy mentioning anything about remodeling the front entrance…what a waste of hospital money." The diagnostician said to himself.

A bloodied up article that was dated during the Cold War caught his eye and he proceeded to read it out loud;

_The Jersey Tribune March 12, 1953_

_New Air Sirens Installed; efficient warning system from Soviet Attack_

_New Jersey mayor Thomas McKinley has installed air sirens similar to those used by the British during Nazi blitzkrieg raids to protect the state capital and selected cities from nuclear attacks. These alarms are set to sound off at any change of air pressure or any foreign presence that did not pass federal inspections…_

The rest of the article was lost due to the faded ink. "Well that was a useless piece of information…" House hissed, slightly pissed at whatever made him read the article.

Suddenly, a disgruntled moan came up from the far left side. He quickly spun around to distinguish within the fog the silhouette of a man struggling with a straight jacket. "That's just peachy…someone let the psych ward run loose." The diagnostician thought out loud. But that sarcastic hope vanished once the man came out of the mist; instead, it was a rotting corpse whose restraints were made of his own rust-covered skin. An acrid smell emanated from a tear in what would've been the face, the familiar scent of gastric juices.

With its erratic movements, the creature drew closer to House, pulled back and hocked a mouthful of the fermenting mouth acid towards him. House managed to avoid the spray and saw the nearby plants dissolve. The flight-or-fight reaction took hold of the diagnostician's mind; he either killed it or was killed by it. Out of pure shock, House whacked the thing with the only thing he had at hand, his cane. Once the creature bent over in pain, the doctor instinctively landed two more solid blows, spraying throwback blood all over him with each hit.

"Holy shit…" House gasped for air as the straight-jacket creature ceased to wriggle. Suddenly, he heard similar groans coming from all sides; the thing had back up. House rushed to the front door and shook the handles as hard as he could; no dice, it was locked from inside. As the shadows grew closer, he became desperate for a way into the hospital. _Where the hell is that back door!?_ House then spotted a door that was slightly ajar that read _Supply Area_.

The diagnostician quickly limped his frame towards the back door, doing his best to avoid contact with the straight jackets. Once there, House tackled the door open and just as fast closed it. With the adrenaline keeping his leg pain under control for a precious few seconds, he grabbed any heavy thing and piled it against the door, slamming it shut.

Once the immediate danger was gone, the throbbing returned to his leg, forcing the doctor to swallow a new pill. _At least I'm here…_House counting his blessings while swallowing the Vicodin. But he couldn't help thinking, "Why the hell is this place so damn dark?"

A/N: Reviews are welcome.


	4. Clinic Duty

A/N: I confess, as much fun as I'm having writing this, I keep praying to God that I don't see fog from now to next to ten years XD For those who are thinking "Where the hell is everybody?", I'll get to that...later. Btw, the straight-jacket things have a name, cookie to whoever posts the correct answer (no cheating)

* * *

House took a while before he caught his breath as he sat that down on a discarded chair. The little breaking-door stunt allowed him to escape the straightjacket things outside but he didn't count on the supply room to be so dark. Visibilty was no better inside PPTH that out so without hesitation, the doctor tore open nearby boxes and tossed things off shelves, there had to be a flashlight around there.

_What good is a supply closet without…_The train of thought stopped once House found the precious pocket-sized item. He then loaded it with some batteries that had fallen to the floor and tested it. The supply room was loaded with taped-up boxes of medical items, ranging from first aid kits to new shipments of prescription drugs.

"Since today apparently is the end of the world, I guess God won't mind me taking a couple of these…" House said to himself with a sarcastic grin as he opened a box of Vicodin and took out three vials' worth of pills. After loading up with whatever he could carry (meaning he stuffed everything he needed in a carry-on kit), the diagnostician swept the room with his flashlight one more time; just to make sure nothing had sneaked in. House almost tripped on a syringe container, arousing enough pain to hiss, but he managed to exit the back room and into the left lobby wing.

The only light source besides House's flashlight, as it seemed was, was the dim sunlight that was able to escape both the fog and the extensive newspaper window lining. The diagnostician's eyes adjusted to the lack of light before taking another step. The hospital may have been filled with the chatter of patients and doctors alike but now it was quiet like a cemetery; papers littered the floor; some parts of charges and patient information, others sullied by blood.

House thought for a second what his next plan of action would be. _Due to the flesh-eating people-in-straight-jackets roaming around, there's no way in hell I'm going outside…again. On the other hand, who knows what's going on in here?_ "I mean, there should be people dying left and right." He assumed while limping his way down the wing and scanning the area with the flashlight. "But not even a gay man's whine…" For some reason, the doctor thought of Chase and withheld a snicker.

By the edge of his line of sight, House spotted a 1st floor emergency exit plan. _Better take this, wouldn't want to run into two or more people having Armageddon sex…_he reasoned while removing the piece of paper from its plastic wall cover. Grabbing a nearby red Sharpie, he quickly scribbled out the supply room exit and wrote on the room, "NO". _No monsters in the supply room, left lobby checks out…I should check out the Clinic before I head to my office…_he reviewed, writing down every detail and crossing out the main entrance with another "NO".

House tried his best to make his walk as quietly as he could as he made his way to the Clinic. Once there, he suddenly switched off his flashlight, readied his cane and bit his tongue; the Clinic was a gruesome sight, even by his own twisted standards. Bodies were strewn all over with varying degrees of consumption and dismemberment. But the worst part were the three straightjacket creatures feasting on the unfortunate souls.

Silently, House limped back into the dark, back to the safety of the lobby. _Clinic's off, now the reception area,_ the doctor murmured to himself once he was out of hearing range. He glanced at his cane; the fight at the front garden had caused a small but visible crack in the lacquered hardwood. House swung it as hard as he could before almost toppling over; the cane had to last him until he could get himself to safety.


	5. Pretty Nurse

A/N: Thank you for the reviews! Hopefully I'll be able to write more often, even though I'm packed for this week. Till then, enjoy this chapter! Reviews are welcome.

House, characters (c) FOX; The fog world and inhabitants (c) Konami

Making his way to the nearest elevator meant that House had to cross the Reception desk, walk down the right lobby wing, past the pharmacy and once there, pray the thing worked otherwise he was stuck there until he had another way to get upstairs. The diagnostician's steps across seemed like glass shattering against the eerie silence, making him all too aware of whatever sound he himself wasn't making.

The Reception area was a mess, just like the lobby; dust, papers and blood debris covered the desk, the computers, phones and chairs. Looking around for any sign of life, House spotted a bulletin board with a couple of announcements tacked on the surface:

_Sullivan's Auto Repair; your car fixed in three days or your money back! Call _(spilled ink covered most of the phone) _3421…_

_Remember: The Mason Children's Fund Gala is next Tuesday! Formal Dress (make sure HOUSE…_(House ignored the rest of the message and ripped the flier off the board)

_Hungry? Quality Chinese food at Ty Lee's Take Out…_

One of the phones rang, causing the normally stoic doctor to flinch for a second. The phone rang for a couple of seconds; House refused to pick it up. "Anyone gonna get that?" he quipped, allowing the desk phone to switch to answering machine mode. A trembling voice broke the silence, a voice House knew all too well,

_If anyone (static) this, this is (static) Cuddy…I'm trapped in (static) over at the (distortion) floor…please call back…House if you're listening, get out while (static) can. I can't take it any(static)…JUST GET OUT! GET…_

House swiftly grabbed the phone but only heard more garbled static; that was definitely Cuddy, only the woman seemed reduced to her last nerve. He hung up the phone and hit the redial button as fast as he could, yelling at the top of his lungs, "Cuddy?! Was that you? Answer, you broad!"

A crackling noise snapped the diagnostician out of his communications attempt; someone else was with him. He switched the flashlight on and pointed the ray to where the sound had come from. The form of a woman standing on the farthest side of the area took shape, dressed in pre-scrubs nursewear. "Hey! Shouldn't you be here?" House shouted, still mad from missing Cuddy's call.

The woman twitched for a moment then turned around to face the doctor. Even from afar, House could see the swollen breasts almost spilling out of bloodied-up white jacket and hat. But the closer she got did House realized she was no nurse; her disfigured head bobbled dangerously as she dragged herself towards him, arm carrying a very gored broken pipe. _What the fuck!_

Suddenly, the nurse swung her weapon, narrowly missing the diagnostician's face, arousing a horrible shriek and causing him to fall flat on his back. He struggled to get back on his feet but his bad leg collapsed under him, exposing his body to more danger. _I can't get up, goddamit! _In desperation, he held his cane over his face and hoped it could stand up to a steel pipe. The nurse retreated for a moment before gearing for a killing blow.

The phone rang for the second time, distracting the nurse creature long enough to divert her attention away from her victim. House then grabbed the pipe from the thing's grip and struck the kneecaps. The creature writhed in pain as he used both the cane and the pipe to stand up.

Without hesitation, the doctor proceeded to bludgeon the thing just like he had done to the straightjacket outside, almost doing overkill. "No way I'm leaving you alive…" he wheezed as he flicked the blood off his new weapon; now he didn't have to worry about his cane breaking for the time being. In that instant, he reminded himself of what was at hand; get to the elevator.

"This is like a bad acid trip…" House grumbled to himself as he limped down the right lobby wing, flashlight in breast pocket lighting the way. "Only mine always end with a naked prostitute and Cameron swapping spit." After the fight with the nurse, he hadn't found anything similar as he walked the adjacent rooms; just bloody trails and the occasional corpse.

The elevator stood against the wall like a godsend, at least to House. He quickened his pace and pressed the UP button. He held his breath, this had to work or he was royally fucked. A bell rang and the doors swung open, allowing the doctor to release a sigh; he would be able to get to his office, ergo, to safety and Cuddy. _Cuddy…_House had to admit, the woman sounded as if she were in trouble, lots of it considering the monsters roaming around. But wherever she was trapped, it still had a working phone and he could try to contact her once he was in his office.

The elevator took forever to close its doors once House pressed the third-floor button. He then popped a Vicodin pill, leaned back against the closest wall and allowed himself to think of something other or survival. He took the dead iPhone and stared at it; thanks to his own fault, Wilson was (hopefully) nowhere near Princeton-Plainsboro…Cuddy and probably his team was another story.

House then noticed the elevator hadn't moved an inch since then. The doctor closed his blue eyes in resignation and mouthed, "Fuck"; he had just walked into a trap.


	6. Finding Foreman

A/N: Thank you for the reviews! Quick update here before reviewing for tests and starting projects. Sad to see that new episodes start again in October 14...don't remember why though...Anyhow, here's the next chapter in Promise, enjoy! House got his radio so the Otherworld will be coming along soon, that's when the sh!t hits the fan. Reviews are welcome.

House, characters (c) FOX, The Fog world and inhabitants (c) Konami

* * *

House couldn't help but slam his head against the nearest dimly lit elevator wall he could find; he was stuck in a potential death trap. As hard as he pressed the third floor button, the contraption did nothing, not even a metallic screech. Even worse was the fact that all the buttons were covered in rust and dried blood, meaning someone else had tried to ride the elevator and failed miserably.

_There has to be a way to activate this piece of crap…_the doctor surmised. _A lever, a button, a code, anything…_In that instant, he noticed a peculiarity: although the hospital had seven floors including a basement, the elevator dials only had up to four. "It's a number combination," House realized, taking a closer look at the dials, "but there are a least a hundred combinations with 1,2,3,4."

After trying a couple of simple combos, House was about to burst an artery when he had an epiphany: the bulletin board announcements. _Let's try the Mason Children's Fund…2 for Tuesday, day 12, 4 for April…2124_, no change. _Sullivan's Auto Repair…3412_. The elevator suddenly shut down its only light and restarted, now revealing all eight floors. Satisfied with himself, House dialed the 3rd floor one more time; this time, the elevator motors whirred to life and pulled it up to the requested area.

Once there, the doors slid open to a familiar yet alien place; this was his floor yet it was in the same state as the previous areas, dusty and decrepit. House quickly switched his flashlight on, illuminating the way across the halls and nurses' stations. His personal office was at the center of the floor, adjacent to his Diagnostics room and what had been Wilson's office.

Spotting no bobble-headed nurses or straightjackets, the diagnostician carefully limped his way to the nurses' station and grabbed the 3rd floor plan. _Well, Wilson's office is closed, elevator works, I see a couple of barred-up examination rooms so they're out…_House noted, writing down every detail as he had down in the lobby until his good leg ached for a second. The last skirmish with the nurse creature had cost his some strength but the pipe did provide with extra support. "I'm gonna need more Vicodin if I keep falling on my ass every time I have to defend myself…" He growled to himself.

After walking down two offices, the doctor stopped and felt around his pockets for his office key. Once he found it, he proceeded to open the lock only to find it broken. "Great, they're in my office too…" House grimaced as he put his cane aside, readied his steel pipe and, using his free hand, slowly opened the shuttered door.

If House had not ducked in time, the piece of wood would've landed a square hit on his head. "Watch the face!" "House!?" A male voice asked from inside the closed-up office. The diagnostician instantly turned on his flashlight to reveal a weathered and anguished Foreman. "Foreman? What the hell are you doing in my office?" House inquired, dropping his guard for a second to take a look inside.

Further observation showed Kutner huddled besides a clearly hurt Thirteen. "Trying to survive! How did you get up here?" the neurologist responded. "I took the elevator. Ever thought about trying it?" House quipped, still proud of himself for figuring out the combination.

"We did; we couldn't get it to work in time. We had to break into the emergency staircase." Kutner replied as he reapplied rubbing alcohol on Thirteen's arm. She hissed for a moment before adding, "We thought we were the only ones left. Everyone else is either trapped, dead or a monster like the rest." "I see. So, where's Taub?" House asked, noting the cosmetic surgeon's disappearance. "He said he went out to look for survivors over at the fifth floor. We haven't heard from him since." Foreman replied. "Of course, it's always the ugly ones who die first." House shot back with an ironic tone. "What's with Thirteen?"

"I was looking for survivors on the sixth floor. I got attacked by a nurse." Thirteen answered. _That's where Cuddy is…_House thought before Foreman derailed his train of thought. "What could possibly be doing this? It's like a pandemic or something."

The diagnostician shook his head as he sat down on his usual chair. "This isn't a pandemic or Thirteen would've turned into one of them, considering she's had direct exposure with that li'l stab. Personally, I'd like you as one of those big-racked nurse thingies, worth the upgrade. The better question is how we're going to save our undeserving hides from what could be the end of the world." "Turning religious, are we?" Foreman shot back. "No, but unless you have a better explanation of what's going on, we stick to what I say and I say 'New Jersey Apocalypse'."

Suddenly, House heard screeching radio static from Foreman's pocket. "What the hell's that?" The neurologist then took out of his bloody lab coat a broken radio. "For some reason, broken radios make static when those things get close." He explained. "Fascinating. How'd you come up with that one?" House retorted. Foreman's expression dropped to the floor as he replied. "When two straightjackets dragged Wilson away."

_Goddammit_, House's eyes stared straight to the floor; first Lisa Cuddy now Wilson. "If the elevator works then we can get out of here and get help…" Thirteen stated as she managed to stand up. "I wouldn't try it unless you want to get eaten," House interrupted, "besides, we're not leaving until we get Cuddy and Wilson." House commanded with steely blue eyes.

"That's suicide! They're grown adults, they can manage by themselves!" Foreman quickly surmised, "We have a better chance of getting out of the hospital and saving more lives than fighting our way just to get two people."

House abruptly stood up and said in a voice most unnatural for him, "You want to go outside? Fine, go out to the parking lot and meet Mr. Car Killer and his straightjacket friends; I'm sure they'll enjoy feasting on your body. Or we could find Cuddy and Wilson and use her phone to call for help. And how do I know this? Because Cuddy used it to call for help just a couple of minutes ago."

Everyone else in the room became quiet before Foreman tossed his boss a small broken radio. "Lead the way."


	7. Little Things

A/N: Told you XD Thank you for your reads and reviews. I think there's an air raid siren system in New Jersey but I'll have to get back to you on that one. Hopefully, I'll be able to stuff in the trademark puzzles and gore in this story. And yes, Pyramid Head will make an appearance...it just wouldn't be a good Silent Hill crossover without him. To complement reading, I suggest listeing to SH2 soundtrack, especifically "White Noiz" and "Theme of Laura (reprise)" for these last chapters.

House, characters (c) FOX; the monsters, Fog World and Otherworld (c) Konami

"We'll first have to get out of here and find any empty offices that are open; if anything is around here, they'd probably figured out this little operation. Kutner, you and Thirteen will check out the second floor and MRI rooms; bring anything that can be used as first aid and as a weapon back up here. Foreman will check out the cafeteria." House ordered while once again checking the dead iPhone. "And you?" The neurologist inquired. "I'll go with whoever reports back alive. I am a cripple, after all."

Foreman rolled his eyes before leaving the diagnostician's office. "You are a piece of work." House paid no attention; he was too deep in thought to give a damn. "You know what? I'll come with you."

A couple of minutes after Kutner and Thirteen exited the room, Foreman stood against the doorframe, staring down at his boss. "So? Are you coming or not?" House snapped back to reality and quickly snarked, "Once you get rid of that lab coat; you're a walking meal ticket." House grabbed his cane, his steel pipe and headed outside.

As the two made their way to the elevator, House managed to ask, "How long have you been in here?" "Since this morning. The hospital was like this when I came in; only difference is that people were still alive and the monsters hadn't come in yet." Foreman replied while looking around the area. "Were Wilson and Cuddy already here?" "Cuddy, yes, but the only time I ever saw Wilson was when I told you."

The diagnostician weighed heavily as he limped back to the elevator; his thoughts now back to the Reception area incident. Cuddy or whoever did had unknowingly saved his life with that phone call; everything that had just happened in the last twenty-four hours became real. "Are you sure Cuddy's in her office?" he asked again. "How do you think Thirteen got hurt?" Foreman spat back as he pressed the down button. "You're being awfully cynical. What about Cameron and Chase?"

"Not a peep." In that moment, the elevator door opened and allowed the doctors to enter. "Seriously, do you have any idea of what's going on?" the neurologist inquired. "Why do you ask me? Why don't you ask that God of yours? Maybe he knows something." House retorted rather acridly. Foreman remained silent as he pressed the 2nd floor button. "Thought so."

Along the short ride, House quickly noticed something new inside the elevator: a piece of paper with notes scribbled in runny ink. As he bent down to observe it more closely, the diagnostician noted the peculiar language the message was written. "What is it?" Foreman instantly asked. "It's a note…written in note." House replied as the elevator ride came to a halt.

"What are you talking about?" The neurologist continued, looking to House as if he were just as insane as their venturing out of the office's safety. "This note's written in traditional music theory pitch, y'know, A, B, C, D, E, F. It even starts with a G-clef and has two bars." House was clearly enthralled by the note; whoever did this knew enough about music to try and send a message. "So what?" Foreman once again snapped his boss back to reality. "Nothing, I just like notes." A quick smirk and House hobbled out of the elevator, stuffing the note into his pocket.

_Why do I even bother?_ Foreman thought, rolling his eyes as he too got out of the elevator. Even during the end of the world, House was still House. Both doctors hastily made their way to the cafeteria, opting to simply avoid whatever office made the radios pitch. After a quick fight with a straightjacket (Foreman killed it rather fast, House noted); they were finally at the cafeteria. The faint smell of condiments enticed them to almost burst through the heavy doors but they held down their hunger long enough to notice the bloody padlock.

"Great…" Foreman groaned; they had come all this way for squat. Suddenly, House took one grand swing with his pipe, greatly weakening the lock's structure. "I warmed it for you. Now give it that old car thief try." House grumbled while handing the weapon to his subordinate and stepping back. Foreman's hit managed to break the lock apart, the pieces falling altogether.

The cafeteria may have looked like the rest of the hospital but it was still a welcome sight. Even more "welcoming" were the straightjacket and nurse bodies littering the place, meaning someone human had already raided the area. "Thank God, there are survivors." Foreman sighed relieved as he and House entered the area. House's mind was still stuck on the note he had found in the elevator; the notes read "FADE" and "DEAF" if played in an octave. The hospital had no musical department other than drunken doctors on Christmas Eve, plus nothing happened randomly.

"So what do we do?" Foreman asked as he broke through some of the glass containers and carefully fished out some food for both him and House. "We eat then we go back to searching for Cuddy and Wilson." House replied as he grabbed a plastic fork and took a bite of the pre-prepared steak and mashed potatoes while Foreman took a bite of a hamburger.

Suddenly, a loud wail filled Princeton-Plainsboro, almost making the walls vibrate. Both doctors quickly recognized the sound; it was an air raid siren. Foreman's face lit up as he exclaimed, "Outside help must've activated it; they know what's going on!" He quickly tore a window curtain and ripped some of the newspaper off the glass but all he could see were the empty hospital grounds along with the fog.

House had too distinguished the sound and his mind quickly reverted to the bloody article he had read earlier. _It's not outside help…_he grimly surmised. While figuring out whatever was causing the air raid siren to go off all of the sudden, the doctor noticed a tear on the cafeteria carpet. The closer he observed, the bigger the tear became. Slowly, House observed tears form everywhere, even in cement walls. "Somehow, I doubt this is good."

Foreman spun around as their environment changed from the hospital cafeteria to a shell of itself; one made up of only blood-soaked walls and rusty steel. "What's going on, House!?" the neurologist yelled through the increasingly louder air raid siren. House breathed in and with an uncertainty in his blue eyes, he replied. "We're in hell, Foreman."


	8. Pies in the Otherworld

A/N: Sorry for the delay...college caught up with me. Trying to download the soundtrack but can never find time for it. I know, the title sounds weird. Reviews are welcome while I watch tonight's episode. This chapter's "easter egg" is too easy, no cookie for you. Reviews are welcome

HOUSE, characters (c) FOX, the Otherworld (c), pies (c) Soundheim

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As soon as the hospital's terrifying transformation into a nightmare self of itself concluded, both House and Foreman were able to scope the event. "So this is hell…" House mused as he looked down at the ash that was once his food. "This can't be hell!" the neurologist yelled, rubbing his forehead furiously.

"Fits what I always thought what hell would look like…" the diagnostician continued, riling Foreman to raise his weapon menacingly. "This is NOT hell, you hear?" he growled, House not even budging an inch. "Smells like a duck, quacks like a duck, looks like a duck…even you can see this is one fucked-up duck but a duck nonetheless." The older doctor stoically reasoned, edging off a little of Foreman's rage.

The corpses that previously lay on the floor were gone, just as every comfort the cafeteria had, prompting House to state, "We'll have to keep going; no use crying over this." But once both doctors turned to face the entrance, they found it boarded up and chained. "That wasn't there before." Foreman remarked, putting an ear against the door. He could hear both the familiar moans of monsters and his radio going berserk. "Oh goody, we're going though the kitchen. What fun." House hissed.

The kitchen was a disturbing sight to see; human limbs strewn across cutting boards and placed into pots and pans; bodies strung up in giant hook and gurneys while blood-soaked sinks overflowed to the floors. House quickly lit the area with his flashlight, looking for any moving abnormality. On the cutting table were 13 round, shallow plates stuffed and covered with piecrust. "Safe to assume the meat locker's out of the question." He quipped, Foreman simply gawking at him. How could the fellow doctor be so nonchalant about the entire exorbitant amount of gore?

Both doctors searched high and low for any way out of the hellish kitchen, every door either locked down or boarded. Save one. According to hospital lore, the sole unlocked door either Foreman or House could find led to an isolated passageway between the kitchen and food storage. The only problem? The door and frame were covered in barbed wire.

"Mother of God…" Foreman managed to whisper as he stared at the rusty contraption. House, on the other hand, was looking around for any lock to pick or any dial to press. What he found were six dismembered piano keys strung together to the locking mechanism and a small passage written on the door with blood.

_Sweet love, pray tell, to die is not the worst_

_But to never hear your voice, even in the valley of shadows_

_Is worse that to lose existence…_

"What are you thinking, House?" the neurologist asked as the diagnostician pondered. House then took out the piece of paper he found at the elevator and reviewed its contents. _FADE and DEAF…_ He then looked back to the hastily written stanza and nodded; he knew what to do. "Step aside, don't want to ruin that outfit of yours." The diagnostician pushed Foreman aside and quickly dialed in DEAF onto the piano keys. A small but recognizable clicking sound was heard, prompting House to dial FADE next. The clicking sound was heard once more as the door slowly opened. "How did you know?" "The same way I opened the elevator, I used my head." House quickly spat, much to Foreman's annoyance.

Because of the transformation, overhead lighting lighted up the decrepit hallway with another door at the end of it, but this one had a simple key lock blocking the doctors' exit. House limped on ahead towards the door while Foreman stayed behind, to make sure nothing had followed them. A quick tug at the shut doorknob and the older doctor hissed, "Shit." "What's wrong now?" Foreman yelled from the other end. "We forgot a key! It's in the kitchen somewhere; go look for it!" House barked, prompting his subordinate to go back to the kitchen.

After two minutes of tossing around pots and pans, moving stray body parts, Foreman had yet to find anything remotely similar to a key. He was also exhausted, both physically and mentally; he had done nothing but survive whatever the hospital had thrown at him and now his life rested on House's judgment. _Not the most assuring motion…_Foreman's mind was completely against his boss' "Find Wilson and Cuddy" mindset, and thanks to him, he was in a gored kitchen, looking for a fucking key…_Once I get out here, House is on his own…_ the neurologist reasoned as he stood up from the floor.

He then noticed the pies on the cutting table. House's steel pipe on hand, Foreman drew closer to the twisted confection and quickly pulled back; the stench of rotting flesh permeated from inside the pies. The pies themselves were labeled "Priest", "Poet", "Lawyer", "Marine", "Squire", "Grocer", "Vicar", "Fop", "Sheppard", "Politician", "Friar", "Actor" and "Judge". A riddle was written on the steel surface with frosting, just beyond the pies:

_If one were to eat such delectable pies, and one should, which one would be the best for being clean though it would taste of wherever it's been?_

"What the hell?" Foreman murmured just before his radio began screeching wildly. The neurologist looked around but nothing was in the kitchen with him. _This thing's busted…well, more busted than usual…_ A slight squirming sound was heard before something slithered against the doctor's leg. "House!" "What?! Did you find that goddamn key?" the diagnostician's voice was hollow against the hallway. "No, but I think I know where it is!" "Then what the hell are you waiting for? A medal?!"

_He's no help all the way there…and if those pies are made up of what I think they are, none of them are 'delectable'…_Foreman's mind raced, 13 pies and only one had the hall key. The static screeched back, something was there. _Which pie is it?_ The neurologist closed his eyes for a second, until an idea popped into his mind; he had to think like his boss. And by that train of thought, he sprinted his way to the pie table and dove his hand into the Marine pie. Using his fingers, Foreman reluctantly shifted bone and tissue until he felt the cold zinc object. "Got it!"

In that instant, the slithering creature shrieked to life as it took the shape of a straightjacket. Foreman looked around for his weapon only to find it on the other side of the table; he was defenseless. Instinctively, the neurologist grabbed the nearest knife and drove it into the thing's head. The creature squirmed on the floor, blood spurting everywhere as Foreman stabbed it four more times and finished it off by stomping it.

House was fiddling with his cane when Foreman managed to go back to the hallway. "Dare I ask?" the older doctor implied with a sarcastic grin, observing the blood-covered neurologist. "How could you be so damn calm about this? We could die at any given moment." Foreman grunted as he placed the key. "Oh, don't mind me; I'm actually scared out of my wits." House retorted. "You think this is just a game." The subordinate retaliated.

_If only…_House thought to himself, ever since his encounter at the parking lot, his mind was already preparing for the inevitability of being killed by any monster. But he had to make it through; he had to make sure Wilson and Cuddy were all right. He looked at his Vicodin bottle and, for a second, wondered if this was all a bad, drug-induced dream.


	9. The Mermaid in Chase's OR

A/N: Taking advantage of a small break from classes to post these next chapters before going back. To anyone who has played Silent Hill, yes, Chase saw who you think he saw. Reviews are welcome

House, characters (c) FOX; the monsters, Fog World and Otherworld (c) Konami

The smell of putrid food was no better than the kitchen but it didn't matter; both doctors were out of there. "All that food, gone to waste." House said before swallowing a Vicodin pill. "Shut up." Foreman shot back, looking around for any monsters. Just as they were about to leave the Food Supply room, the air raid siren wailed back to life, the sound now magnified to such as an extent that it brought deafening headaches. "WHAT'S WRONG NOW?!" Foreman shouted through the noise. In that instant, the siren's howl became so strong that it knocked both doctors out cold…

"Ow…" House grunted, shuttering his eyes open; his head was throbbing. But once the diagnostician got up, he realized the hospital had changed once more, back to its previous form. Even stranger was the fact that both he and Foreman's unconscious self were no longer in the Food Supply room but outside the Cafeteria entrance. "How the hell?" he pondered out loud. The diagnostician then searched his pocket for the elevator note, only to find it blank.

Perplexed by all the new events, House sat up and poked Foreman with his cane. "Wake up." Foreman groaned awake, food supply key at hand. "What happened?" he asked as he rubbed his hand against his forehead. "Like I said before, hell. But apparently, we're back where we started just half an hour ago." The older doctor mused. "Then what happened in there never happened?" Foreman reasoned. House gave him a disproving glare. "You still have that key?"

In his hand, Foreman still had the bloodied item, further proving their nightmarish trip had really happened. "We should get out of here; there could be monsters around." Foreman stated as he grabbed the wooden weapon. Without warning, House grabbed the key and limped his way into the cafeteria before the neurologist could react. "House?!"

The cafeteria was just as they had left it before the transition, as was the kitchen; dust-covered with minimum mutilation, windows covered in newspapers. The piano-key door had none of the barbed wire, still slightly ajar. The diagnostician then hobbled to the Food Supply door, held his breath and inserted the key. Nothing greeted him other than a waft of dust particles, no monsters or spoiled food. But House had other things on his mind, such as a small, gold key that lay on one of the rack. _Now what does this one open?_ He wondered as he put the key in his pocket along with some snacks.

"So, what did you find that was so important?" Foreman spat as House emerged from the cafeteria. "Another key." The key had a number identification that read C-207, meaning the key belonged to a closet on the same floor as the cafeteria. Once on the central nurses' station, the diagnostician observed a floor plan and counted. "What now?" Foreman insisted. "Be patient…" _C-205, C-206…C-207_. "We're going here."

Closet C-207 was just beyond the dermatologist's office, next to Medical Supplies, but House made a pit stop along the adjacent office. From outside, he could spot the lifeless body of a security guard that had been torn to shreds. Much to Foreman's anger, the older doctor didn't hesitate to raid the corpse. "A little respect for the dead, eh House?"

"What good will it do? It's not like the monsters are going to treat me nicer if I leave this guy alone," House reasoned as he unbuckled the hip cartridge. "Besides, I doubt he'll need this anymore." He continued as he removed the body's handgun and magazines. "Good point." As Foreman himself grabbed the back-up gun, both drew closer to the closet. The nearer they got, the louder a rasping noise from inside the compartment became. With steel pipe on hand and the neurologist's weapon ready, House inserted the key and pushed down the lever knob.

Two shots rang out, almost landing into Foreman's arm, causing House to swing his pipe wildly. "Wait!" a masculine voice yelped from inside the closet. Both doctors identified the voice and turned straight for it; inside the closet was one Dr. Robert Chase, eyes widened with proverbial shock and fear and trigger-happy hands on a .38 revolver.

House couldn't help but laugh as he ordered his former subordinate, "Chase, would you mind coming out of the closet?" Despite himself, Foreman joined in, doubling in amusement. "Shut up." Chase growled, not at all in a laughing mood himself.

"What the hell were you doing in there?" House asked as he handed the surgeon a chocolate bar that he had brought with him from his trip back to the food storage room. "Running away from the monsters." "You are aware that they can be killed…" Foreman added. "Except one; he's a huge, nasty bugger; kills anything that walks." Chase explained, his hands trembling at the memory. "Great; here I thought the nurses were bad." The older doctor shot back. "So before going back into the closet, what were you doing?"

Chase's expression fell as he remembered why he had wondered off; he had forgotten someone back there. "I was looking for Cameron." House suddenly seemed interested. "And where did my sweetest duckling head off to?" Chase looked straight to the diagnostician and replied, "When all this happened, we were together, searching for a way to get outside help. She told me she was headed for the morgue, but I haven't heard from her after the air raid siren sounded off."

"Then give me the keys to the OR." House demanded, much to both doctors' surprise. "Why the OR?" Foreman inquired. "There's a side entrance to the morgue, much quicker for you surgeons to dispose of the people you kill on the table. So, Chase, the keys." The diagnostician reasoned, holding his free hand out. "No." "I'm sorry, what?" The blonde surgeon looked away from House's growing glare. "You can't go in there. There's something inside…she's not like the nurses." House rolled his eyes, his hand still held out. "I'll take my chances."

Hesitantly, Chase finally handed his former boss a card key. "It's your funeral." "Come on, Foreman." House replied but Foreman had enough. "I'm staying right here." "Is this mutiny?" the diagnostician shot back. "Your whole plan's brought nothing but trouble. If you want to go to the OR, be my guest. We'll be back in your office." House couldn't help but feel mad but he quickly blew it off and before either left, handed the elevator combination. "Just in case the elevator pulls a Houdini and only has four buttons again. Thanks for the radio."

As the diagnostician hobbled his way to the operating room, Chase murmured under his breath. "Bet you 50 he gets himself killed." "I'm in. But what's in the OR that's got you so scared?" Foreman asked as he handed the surgeon a 50 bill. "A mermaid."


	10. Ideal Stacy

A/N: This chapter is based on both the Silent Hill movie and another psychological horror game named Rule of Rose. Reviews are welcome.

House (c) Fox, monsters (c) Konami, the mermaid (c) ATLUS

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Fucking pussy…

House grumbled as he inserted the card key to open the surgical wing of the hospital. Apparently, the hospital had taken a toll on Foreman's insecurity about following orders, making him question decisions that had saved his ass more than one time. The only reason House was even going to the morgue was to get Cameron to tell him anything about Cuddy or Wilson; it seemed like Chase had no idea they even existed.

The OR was shadowy at best; just in the hallway before, only overhead lighting and the doctor's own flashlight provided what few visibility the diagnostician's eyes could muster. A couple of nurse corpses along with some human remains littered the floor, blood once again seeping into House's sneakers. _Damn it…Chase's bid bad monster was here._ The first OR room was empty save for a couple of gauzes and surgical needles to which House helped himself. The second room had a misfortunate soul in the process of dismemberment by either a very skilled surgeon with a medical saw or by an extraordinarily large knife.

When House finally arrived at the last OR, his radio began to sound off waves of static. Coincidentally, this was the room where the direct-access elevator was located. "Well, now or never…" House said to himself as he pushed the door open.

The walls were covered in scribbles and blood-written graffiti, all reading the same things; _Naughty Stacy, Naughty Stacy, Dare you, Double Dare you, you've been a bad girl, Stacy_…"Stacy?" House whispered, trying to make sense of the room's decorations; Stacy hadn't been to Princeton-Plainsboro in over two years. But House had no time to think about the issue anymore; a loud, metallic grating sound was heard all over the small room.

Revolver ready, House spun around to face the sound's origin to no avail; nothing he could see made the noise. As he searched around the floor, the metallic noise grew faster, as if something was crawling to him. Adrenaline pumping through his veins and primal survival instincts on high alert, House jerked around, trying to keep up with the sound. "WHERE ARE YOU?!" He yelled at the top of his lungs. Suddenly, he looked up; blood trails, chains and stainless steel framing were covering the ceiling.

Suddenly a body plopped onto the floor, held to the roof by chains. House drew closer, flashlight shining on the corpse; it was a woman with her legs sown together along with fish parts, literally a mermaid. Before House could poke at it, the creature was lifted up to his eye level, revealing a near perfect doppelganger of Stacy Warner with her eyes and lips ripped off. A pitiful sound that likened to "House…" emanated from the monster as she reached for the diagnostician. "Stacy?"

But once the creature heard its name, it shrieked, grabbed House's neck, lifting the six-foot tall man up in the air, and preceded to choke him to death. "Stacy?!" House managed as he struggled with the monster's grip and did his best to lift his gun. He fired two shots to the monster's bare torso, causing her to drop the doctor and retreat back.

As soon as House caught his breath, he aimed the weapon and fired three more shots. Two of the bullets missed, alerting the Stacy-mermaid of House's position. The monster crawled around the ceiling, using the chains and the frame to get to the diagnostician's position. _'This can't be happening!' _went over and over the doctor's rational mind but his survival mechanism put those thoughts aside and fired three more shots.

Contrary to before, these shots landed along the leg-tail and the back, causing the monster to drop down and allowing House to administer the killing shots. The creature made one last croak before it expired. The diagnostician then fell to the floor, exhausted and his bad leg pain ridden due to all the movement. As he took a Vicodin pill, he looked at the monster he just killed. "That was Stacy all right…what the hell is this place turning into?" he mused while rubbing his hand over the chokehold.

After patching himself with his carry-on first-aid kit, House used his pipe to stand up and walk out but not before noticing a small, metal box. _Was this what my ideal Stacy was guarding?_ He thought as he carefully observed the box and added note. The box contained three small vials containing different colored liquids, just enough for a full syringe; each labeled "Sun", "Kill", "Cure". The note read:

_The Sun brings life to God's creations,_

_The Silent Killer discriminates none,_

_No true Panacea will exist but this will do._

_SunYellow; KillNone, CureRed_

Without giving the matter much thought, House grabbed all three vials and stuffed them into his kit; with the hospital's volatile nature, he had nothing to lose. _On to the morgue…_Following a quick search of the room, the diagnostician found the body elevator and pressed the down switch. The doctor then stepped into the contraption and pressed the B dial. House mused for a moment, were one Dr. James Evan Wilson and Dr. Lisa Cuddy worth all this trouble? He remembered the Tritter and Amber ordeals and shook off the doubt. _After this, we're all squared…_


	11. Allison Cameron

A/N: Sorry for the delay with updates but this week is full of work so if you see like three chapters at a time. Sorry to all Cameron fans!

House, characters (c) FOX

The morgue was something out of the nightmare world; House could almost swear he had heard the siren go off. Bodies laid covered in blood-soaked linen, worms already festering in between the tissues while cubicles were either spotted with crimson or torn open. But for some reason, the doctor's radio never went off; the morgue was strangely safe. "Cameron? You in here?"

"House? Is that you?" a familiar voice asked from under the main sink. "Not the boogeyman, if that's what you're asking." House replied with his usual sarcasm. Dr. Allison Cameron promptly stepped out of her hiding place, crow bar on hand. "Y'know, I found Chase in a closet…is this becoming a pattern?" the diagnostician inquired, much to the immunologist's annoyance. "You wish." House carefully looked at his former duckling, nothing wrong there.

"By the way, Chase told me to ask you why the hell did you go the morgue. Why not someplace cheerier, like OB/GYN or Pediatrics?" House argued as Cameron searched around the place. "You want the short version or the long version?" the immunologist said between moving two boxes. "Well, my patented monster-detector hasn't gone off so I'll take the long version for 200."

Cameron kept looking as she began, "Before Chase came in, I got a call from Cuddy over at the Emergency Room. She told me in this weird voice that she had left a couple of things, a locker combination and a key to Pediatrics. When I asked why, she told me that Wilson was stuck over there with two straightjacket-looking creatures. I couldn't risk Chase getting hurt, not with that pyramid thing roaming around." House's heart skipped a beat; he finally had a starting point to look for Wilson…_Pediatrics, of course, he had to make sure his bald kids were safe._

"Pyramid thing?" the diagnostician queried, interested. "Yeah. You'll know when you see it."

"Want some help?" House offered, to which Cameron nodded. After a while, the female doctor sat down to catch her breath. "Nothing makes sense; why would Cuddy ask me to look for something?" In a rare moment, House felt guilty; the Dean of Medicine had called him too…but he chose not to answer. "Maybe she wasn't referring to you; she just needed someone to pick up the phone." "Yeah but why just those two items? Why not 'get help' or 'send up something to kill the monster that's about to attack me'?" Cameron continued.

The older doctor sighed. "This place is changing people, whether they know it or not; Taub's probably dead, Cuddy's going insane, Foreman's questioning himself, Thirteen's probably turning into one of the evil nurses as we speak and I'm risking my crippled ass to save two people." Cameron smiled softly, a welcomed comfort in the hellish hospital. "But you care for those two people, and don't you dare deny it. You want to see them at least one more time before you get yourself killed."

House smirked; sentimental bullshit aside, Cameron was right. He specifically needed to see Wilson; Amber's death had caused a rift between them because of their twisted friendship. Then the diagnostician realized; he was glad the oncologist had returned, even if it was just to get his thing or the fact he was probably dead or had made it out.

As House made his realization, Cameron wondered around the morgue until a flash caught her eye; a silver key with the Pediatrics tag hid within an empty cubicle. "Found my key!" she exclaimed, snapping the diagnostician back to reality. She further searched the cabinet and finally found Locker 202's combination: 05-07-35-01. "So we're done?" House asked. "Yep. Let's go upstairs; Chase must be worried sick." Cameron replied as she led the way to the body elevator back to the OR.

"So…what are you and the wombat up to?" House asked as the elevator lifted them both. "Nothing you'd be interested." Cameron shot back playfully. _Big mistake…_ House smirked; she had piqued his curiosity. As soon they arrived at the second floor, House headed straight for the main elevator while Cameron went towards the nurses' station. _Good for her…_

Cameron picked up one of the telephones and tried to dial Cuddy's office; she had gotten the items she had requested. Suddenly, she heard a harsh grating sound. Her eyes trembled in fear as she turned to face the origin. She couldn't help but scream her lungs out; her greatest fear was there, ready to kill her. The immunologist dropped the phone and sprinted as fast as she could to the main elevator; the creature was catching up.

Just as House's ride was closing his door, he heard Cameron's screams. "Cameron?" Out of the darkness came the female doctor, running and yelling, "Hold the door!" But as hard as the diagnostician dialed or as hard as he hold the heavy doors, the elevator had a mind of its own. He could see Cameron cry fearfully as he extended his hand. "Grab my hand!" The grating sound became faster and closer until it stopped for a split second, when everything went quiet.

Cameron's eyes widened, final tears streaming down her soft face, as an enormous knife-like weapon went through her abdomen. "Cameron?!" House yelled as the weapon withdrew itself and her frame fell to the floor, dead. "Cameron!" But no matter how many times House said her name; it made no difference. In her last words, she managed to say, "Don't tell Chase." Suddenly, a gruesome hand pushed the elevator door, dragged the body aside and revealed its monstrous self. House finally understood Chase's warning; there stood a hideous shell of a man dressed in what seemed ceremonial robes and wearing a huge tetrahedron-shaped helmet.

Out of pure fury and rage over Cameron's fatal injury, House unloaded his bullets onto the monster, causing it to withdraw long enough for him to pull the poor doctor's body inside. Once the door closed, House held Cameron close and, despite himself, began to fix her hair. A small but valued gasp alerted the diagnostician to his former duckling's nearing demise. "Save it." House tried to assure before Cameron interrupted him. "Don't tell Chase…about Cuddy…I just wanted to help out." The dying immunologist whispered. House glanced at her with melancholy; always a helping person…Her last words were, "House, be careful…Wilson's…"

The elevator bell rang and opened its doors with Chase, Foreman, Kutner and Thirteen anxiously waiting. But all they saw was House silently weeping over one Allison Cameron's peacefully resting body.


	12. Cuddy's Children

 A/N: Sorry for the delays but I've been studying...Again sorry to all Cameron fans!

House, characters (c) FOX, monsters and the Fog World/Otherworld (c) Konami

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"Cameron?!" Chase dove into the elevator; straight to his girlfriend's limp arms as House said in a low voice, "I couldn't help her…" "What happened?!" Foreman tried to understand what just happened. "The Pyramid-head thing; I tried to hold the elevator for her but it just kept…I didn't see until after she…" the diagnostician tried to explain as Chase gently shook the dead immunologist.

"You didn't do anything! If you had really done something to help her, she'd still be alive!" the surgeon screamed as he kicked House in his infarction-ridden leg and raised his gun to his former boss' forehead. "Chase!" Thirteen yelled to no avail; instead, the older doctor simply cocked his head against the gun barrel. "Do it."

"What?" Chase spat, gun shaking violently in his hand. "If you think it'll bring her back, then go ahead and blow my brains out; I have no guilty conscience other than that I wasn't physically strong enough to hold the door." House softly replied, even through the mind-blowing pain he was experiencing. Reluctantly, Chase put down his gun and returned to the lifeless body he held in his hand. "Just so you know, I hope you get what you deserve." He whispered as his former boss stood up and popped three more Vicodin while exiting the elevator.

"Kutner, did you and Thirteen find anything?" House inquired gravelly, his hand fidgeting with the items Cameron had given her life for. "No, MRI rooms had nothing we could use." The intensivist reacted, his voice a little off. "We did find a key ring, every room in the hospital except for your office as well as Wilson's and Cuddy's." "Somehow, I don't think they'll be any use for us. If you need me, I'll be at the Nurses' lockers." The diagnostician quickly snapped back, interrupting Thirteen's report.

After a couple of feet, House felt Kutner catch up to him and grab his shoulder. "What is it now?" he growled, anxious to find out what hid in Locker 202. "House, something's off about Thirteen." "Other than the usual?" the diagnostician rolled his eyes. "When we were at the CT Scan room, the air raid siren sounded off and she just lost it." "Go on." Kutner scratched his head as he continued, "Her eye twitched, her injured arm flailed and she sometimes lost control of her body; she looked like she had Tourette's or something."

"You are aware she's a carrier for Huntington's disease, right? The transition from normal to hell must've sped things along." House quipped, even this present duckling had to know that. "I think it's her wound." Kutner assumed, looking back to the mourning group. House was exasperated he added, "Then do what you have to do; disinfect it, cauterize it, whatever." He then limped his way to the south side of the third floor and disappeared into a hallway, leaving one Lawrence Kutner with worry on his face.

Once he got to the nurses' lockers, House quickly noticed that the place had been raided; broken door tossed aside along with overturned benches and cubicles, except for one, number 202. Using the paper strip he had taken from Cameron just before they arrived at the present floor, the doctor twisted the dial and clicked the lock open. Inside were a couple of miscellaneous things; a picture of a nondescript man, a brush, an extra pair of scrubs and shoes. But two things were out of place: a medium-sized vial of pale green liquid and a glass dagger. _What? No riddle?_ House thought as he seized the items and headed for the other main elevator.

This elevator had no tricks, no puzzle to solve, so the ride up to the fifth floor was quick and easy. Upon closer inspection of the green liquid, the doctor assumed it was some kind of acidic substance, meaning he would find a use for it later. But House had other matters in mind; specifically about Cameron's last words. Contrary to Foreman and Chase, she had seen the missing oncologist after he had been attacked. But what could her warning mean? Had Wilson gone insane too? _Only one way to find out…_House thought as he inserted the Pediatric Wing key and turned the doorknob.

The Pediatric ward had to be one of the most haunting sights anyone could ever imagine; innocent toys and cradles covered in red blotches while bodies lined up against the brightly decorated walls. Some cradles even had tiny bloody handprints dotting the light blue and pink fabrics and floors. But House paid more attention to a trail of stiletto shoeprints that led further into the room.

"Cuddy, you in here?" the diagnostician called out as he flashed his light over a couple of overturned incubators. He heard a slight moan arise from the left-hand corner and turned his flashlight over to its origin; what he saw was pitiful. One Lisa Cuddy laid on the floor, mindlessly playing with a knife while three spectral children clawed at her body.

House quickly fired two shots to the ceiling, warding off the gray children away from the Dean of Medicine. "Are you OK?" the older doctor asked, poking the woman's frame with his cane. Cuddy weakly reached out to the dissipating creatures and, in a slightly deranged voice, whined, "My babies…where are my babies?"

"Trying to eat you apparently; luckily for you, I scared them before they feasted on your torso." House responded as he helped Cuddy stand up. The woman looked as if she had no will to live, just going through the motions, so House had no choice but slap her. "EARTH TO CUDDY!" The Dean of Medicine suddenly sprung back to life and immediately shoved the diagnostician. "House, what the hell!?"

"Aww, you looked so cute when you were unhinged." House smirked. Once both doctors reacquainted themselves, Cuddy had to ask, "What are you doing up here? I told you to leave." "In this order, I couldn't do to car monster that's roaming in the parking lot and I also had to give you these, courtesy of the late Cameron." The diagnostician replied as he handed Cuddy the glass dagger and the vial. "Cameron's dead?" House nodded and added, "Pyramid-headed thing ring any bells?"

"Not really. Chase must be devastated." "And homicidal but he's probably wanted to off me since he fired him for no good reason." Cuddy sighed, this hospital was becoming more than she could handle. She started for the exit but not before signaling House to follow. "Come on, we have to get to my office before the air raid siren sounds off." House shrugged as he allowed Cuddy to pass in front of him…_This day just can't get any better… _


	13. Naughty Remy Hadley

A/N: Sorry for the delay...this was is actually writer's block and my inability to obtain a Greatest Hits **Silent Hill 2** (with the Born from a Wish scenario). If you're probably wondering, what is with me and elevators? The answer is that for some classes over at my campus, I take elevators that just happen to be either torn apart and/or really shaky on the way up and I wanted to transfer that claustrophobic feeling here since they're the only form of transport that House can use.

Well, Reviews are always welcome and to those who don't know Thirteen's real name, the chapter's name is a spoiler. Cookie to whoever figures out which of the SH games is this chapter based on.

House and characters (c) Fox and David Shore, fog world and monsters (c) Konami

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"So, what were _you_ doing up there? And what's with the killer tots?" The diagnostician inquired as he walked down the hall alongside the Dean of Medicine. Cuddy's expression went blank for a second before she responded; "I was looking for any survivors after I managed to escape my office. But I didn't see any 'killer tots'." _Funny, they were about to make you their main course_, House said to himself. "And these things are for?"

"In my office there's a box that Wilson found for me before he wondered off to help someone that was stuck in ICU. It's locked with a soft metal but I can't open it." House closed his eyes in frustration; once more, Wilson had slipped away. But at least he knew where her story along with Foreman's and Cameron's overlapped: Intensive Care. "So Cameron died for a box? That is incredibly ironic and cruel, Cuddy." "I know, I'm sorry." The Dean of Medicine replied. "But I couldn't just walk out…"

House quickly noted the sudden desperation in his former one-night stand and tried to imagine being trapped even when the door was unlocked. "What areas are accessible up until now?" "Dermatology, ICU, the free Clinic," "Not anymore, straightjackets and nurse monsters took over most of the first floor. Second floor has Pyramid Head roaming around, basement's crawling with monsters, so that leaves from the third to sixth floor, not to mention the rooftop." House interrupted with a smirk. "You're welcome to my office for some coffee with me and my ducklings."

Cuddy returned the expression with a smile and, "I'll think about it. But first, we get our mystery box." This instant eerily mirrored the last moment the diagnostician had with Cameron before she was viciously murdered so he instinctively reloaded his gun. The walk to Cuddy's office was strangely void of monsters, just littered with disembodied giggles and a taunting sing-a-long tune that only House heard…

Where's Momma Cuddy? She's with mean old House. Mean old House is gonna kill her. How will he kill her? He'll stab her with a kitchen knife! How many stabs will it take? One, two, three…

But once Cuddy opened her office door, the singing stopped. She then pointed to her desk, to a box that was covered and locked with chains; all held together by a small but solid link made of a dull-looking metal. "That's it?" "Well, yeah." House quickly drew the glass dagger and the vial and set them both on the desk alongside the box. A rapid whiff of the box and the diagnostician figured the puzzle out. "The lock's made of tungsten." "So?" Cuddy asked, rather intrigued.

"Open the vial and cover your mouth and nose as fast as you can." The Dean of Medicine did as she was told and shielded her face from the fumes. House quickly dipped the dagger into the liquid and before the acid went through the glass, he allowed the escaping droplets fall upon the lock. The acid made quick work of the metal and after two seconds, the chains were off and the box was open.

"I'll bet you there's a key inside." House remarked as Cuddy closed the acid vial. Inside was indeed a key, still held by a hand that had been cut off. Cuddy immediately gagged for a second then regained her composure. "Is this Wilson's idea of a joke?" "This coming from the woman that was wailing on and on about nonexistent babies. Plus I doubt he'd have the time to make a knock-knock joke with a severed hand while being chased around…" "Ok, I get it." The box also contained a note that read in blood, "TO MRI."

"Well, what do we do now?" House inquired, watching Cuddy close the box and taking it with her. "'Cause I'm headed to ICU." "I'll come with you, the note read MRI and it's on the way to…" House couldn't help but scoff, "You're gonna follow a note you just found with a dismembered hand? God, you must be desperate." "It hasn't stopped you before." Cuddy shot back as she readied her knife and headed outside. _She's got a point…crap._

Just as they were about to board the elevator, both doctors heard two gunshots ring floors below them, somewhere between the third and fourth floors. "What just happened?" Cuddy asked as they tried to pinpoint the sound's origin. For some reason, House remembered what Kutner had told him before coming up to the sixth floor, something about Thirteen and erratic behavior.

_Could it be? But the wound wasn't infected, I know, I checked…unless…_With his cane, House pressed the down button and limped inside. "House, what's going on?" Cuddy insisted as the elevator rode down. "If my suspicion's right, I need you to stay inside the elevator once we get there and don't even think about leaving for any reason. Make sure the elevator remains open." House cautioned as he reclined against the other side.

The floor bell chimed once they were on the fourth floor. Gun in tow, House stepped outside, doing his best impression of a SWAT officer and laying low. "Kutner? Foreman? Thirteen?" He yelled into the deserted halls, without so much as an echo of his own voice. As he continued hobbling down the passageway, the older doctor spotted a massive silhouette of blood in one of the glass walls inside one office. The closer House got to the office, the better he could define the shape of a writhing Dr. Lawrence Kutner and the clearer his agonizing screams became.

"Kutner!" House shouted once he was close enough to the wounded man. "House?! Get out while you still can!" Kutner screamed through the pain and the transparent walls. Once the diagnostician entered the office, he realized the severity of the current situation; the sports medicine doctor had been shot twice in the right leg and knee, bleeding profusely into the hospital floor. House dove in and, with a nearby lab coat and his cane, created a makeshift tourniquet to stop the blood flow. "Who did this?" he asked as he tightened the tourniquet.

"Don't go out there, she's gone off the deep end…" Kutner hissed through the anguish. "Who, dammit?!" House growled, smacking the wound to induce enough pain to force Kutner into telling him the truth. "THIRTEEN!" the Sports doctor yelped, "We were investigating this office and (he swallowed down in order to continue) suddenly she got this deranged smile on her face and she fired at me! House, for the love of God, get the hell out of here! She's looking for you!" House then smirked, "Well, if she's looking for me, then I better return the favor."

House didn't have to wonder far; after a few feet, he found Thirteen's frame further down the hall. "Dr. Hadley?" An unnerving laugh arose from the unstable woman. "That's the first time you've ever called me other than 'Thirteen'; that's so damn sweet." She replied with an unhinged voice tone. Once she turned around, House saw what Kutner was referring to: a wide Cheshire-cat smile ripped trough Thirteen's fair face, mouth smeared with what seemed like lipstick lines and eyes swollen red and yellow.

But the diagnostician had no more time to try and figure out what was wrong with his duckling; out of nowhere, the internist fired two shots that blasted through the glass walls and into the elevator, narrowly missing both House and Cuddy. Her movements mirroring that of the monstrous nurses, the possessed Thirteen dragged herself closer to the open elevator door, laughing in a wheezing breath as her gun wavered with every step.

"House?! What's going on?!" the older doctor heard Cuddy yell from the elevator. "Nothing's wrong, Dr. Cuddy!" the crazed intesivist screamed back, firing two more shots. "I'm just getting rid of a couple of issues with Dr. House!" Meanwhile, House managed to turn off his proverbially on flashlight and hid behind two carts. _If Thirteen's is any like the other monsters, her limited control of her body won't allow her to see me in the dark…_he reasoned as he readied himself.

He held his breath for two nerve-racking seconds, as the possessed Thirteen hobbled to his position. She momentarily stopped just a few inches from where House was, her convulsive movements almost touching his white-knuckled hands. She then continued towards the lit cab, allowing House to spot what exactly caused her transformation: a leech-like protrusion throbbed inside the right side of her neck, reaching all the way into the back of her head.

_It's a parasite! It must've been introduced when she got that wound in her arm! _House exclaimed in his mind before he came to a grim choice of treatment: he either found of a way to get rid of the parasite or kill Thirteen. Either way, he had to come up with a plan to protect Cuddy from being shot to death. House quickly thought of a plan and, risking revealing his position to the possessed duckling, he shouted, "KILL THE LIGHTS!"

Almost instantly, Thirteen turned around and blindly shot twice into the hall, one bullet grazing House's good leg. At the elevator, Cuddy understood what House meant and closed the doors, shutting off any light source in the hallway and further disorienting the infected doctor. Once the lights were done, House took out his own gun and fired three times; once to disarm Thirteen, the other two to incapacitate her in her left leg and arm.

Thirteen shrieked in pain and began to convulse violently, allowing House to draw closer. He tried to hold her down while Cuddy made her way out of the elevator cabin and over to his side. "What is it?" the Dean of Medicine asked as she observed the parasite wriggling inside Thirteen's neck. "What do you think? It's parasitic; problem is, I don't know how to kill it." House growled as he restrained the duckling with a belt with much difficulty. In that moment, he recalled the three one-serving bottles he had found in the OR some time ago. "You go check on Kutner over at Office 410, make sure he hasn't bled out."

As Cuddy left the vicinity, the diagnostician took out the liquids and tried to remember the poem that came with them. _Ok, Yellow equals to Sun, meaning it revives? Red is poisonous and the clear one is a cure for something…_ he thought as Thirteen continued to struggle. _Well, gotta leave the yellow one for last, and I certainly don't want to kill one of my own ducklings if I can avoid it…but then again…_

Suddenly, the infected doctor gasped for air. "He hates you, House…" she said in a raspy but menacing voice, catching House's attention. Her wicked smile grew as she continued, "He really does hate you…he wants you dead." "Who doesn't?" the diagnostician spat back as he loaded the syringe with one of the vials' contents. "He made this, all this just to kill you off…" were Thirteen's last words before House drove the syringe straight into her neck and knocked her unconscious.

"That ought to shut you up." The older doctor replied while Cuddy and Kutner arrived, the dean helping the other along. "You two are just in time." "For what?" Kutner inquired as he was set down. "To see if I save Thirteen or kill her." House responded, waiting for the results of his little experiment.

After a few moments of nothing, Thirteen sprung back to life and started to heave. The worm detached itself from her neck and visibly traveled all over her skin until she finally vomited the creature out. Cuddy rushed to her side as House shot the parasite and smashed it with the steel pipe, its entrails spreading out. "What happened?" the intensivist gasped, watching the worm die. House pointed to the dead creature and replied in a nonchalant manner, "That happened."

One look at Kutner and Thirteen quickly realized what had transpired. "I'm so sorry, I…" "You shouldn't apologize, I mean, that worm did take over your body and almost made you into another one of those nurse monsters." House continued before he was glared quiet by Cuddy. "The important thing is that you're fine now. Take Kutner to Foreman and patch him up, ok?" the dean added, much to the diagnostician's chagrin. Thirteen nodded and after taking her fellow duckling to the elevator, disappeared from the others' line of sight.

"Onward." The walk to the southern elevator was relatively quiet; as though the monsters had left the infected Thirteen do their dirty work. House's mind, however, was wondering yet another mysterious warning. "What's on your mind?" Cuddy's voice returned him to reality. "Just thinking 'bout getting you into a nurse outfit and passing you off as an undercover monster." He was lying and Cuddy knew it. "Tell me." She said as they rode down to the first floor.

"There's nothing to tell or talk about. I just want to find Wilson and get to Trenton or whatever place this fog dimension hasn't reached." House responded. "Why do you want to see Wilson so badly? It's practically driving you through this hellhole." The Dean of Medicine continued to inquire, rather curious. She knew that both were each other's best friend (and in House's case, probably his only friend), but she couldn't imagine friendship would be such a powerful driving force.

"You know exactly why." Was the last House said about the matter, the elevator bell stopped the topic cold. Cuddy sighed; she got the message. But as soon as they got off, a familiar and deeply unsettling yell resounded against the first floor walls. "Wilson?!"


	14. The Reunion

A/N: It's a short chapter, I know, but there is a side note I have to point out so people don't get confused; the story is within the fifth season until "Birthmarks" and beyond, explaining Wilson's behavior for here on out. If House seems a little out of character, it's probably because of the story's setting but I'll try to keep in character as best as I can. Reviews are always welcome. DISCLAIMER: House, characters (c) Fox and David Shore; Fog World, the monsters and the Otherworld (c) KONAMI

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Both House and Cuddy practically sprinted to where the sounds were coming from across the infested clinic room and reception room. "Wilson!" the diagnostician yelled at the top of his lungs, swinging everything and anything in his path. "Help me!" the oncologist's voice echoes the lobby with desperation and fatigue, almost drowned in unnatural groans and hisses. "I'm coming over there! Just stay where you are!" House responded, unaware that he had left Cuddy behind; he had to get to Wilson _now_.

The walkthrough to the shadowy Intensive Care Unit seemed like an endless labyrinth but the older doctor persevered as he followed Wilson's screams and the attacking monster's wails. Then, out of nowhere, House heard a bone-crushing whack to a body, arousing a bang of chest pain for no good reason. As he recovered, the diagnostician tore a curtain, just in time as Wilson bludgeoned what seemed like an already emaciated creature to death, the resulting arterial blood splatter soiling his ever-pressed clothes.

As both doctors simultaneously caught their breaths, Wilson took notice of House's presence and turned around. Despite himself, House sighed, "You all right?" If anyone could survive, it would come down to either the diagnostician or the oncologist. "I've had better." Wilson replied as he grazed his free hand over his brown mess of hair. Out of exhaustion and relief, House embraced the younger doctor.

But the sensations were fleeting, as a horrifying vision flashed through House's blue eyes once he wrapped his arms around Wilson; it forced him to understand what Cameron had meant in her dying words. He slowly removed himself from the oncologist and, with one look, corroborated his fear. But before House could say anything, Cuddy finally arrived at the station. "

Wilson!" she happily exclaimed. "You're ok too!" Wilson replied as he warmly hugged the Dean of Medicine. House could see Cuddy shed a tear and decided to keep his discovery to himself, Cuddy deserved a little reprieve from the horrors the hospital had made her go through. "I can't believe you're alive, after what Foreman and Cameron told me." Cuddy said, her hand on Wilson's shoulder. Wilson sighed and returned the gesture, "It wasn't easy…I couldn't find any survivors." "Well, then let's get the hell out of here before the nursies find out and we're all worm food." House grunted, interrupting the festive mood.

As the three doctors walked down the first floor hallway, House couldn't help asking, "Why'd you come back?" Wilson shot his former friend an acidic look, "It's a free country, House. I left something in my office and I came back before the moving trucks arrived." "So you still want nothing to do with me?" The diagnostician continued as he limped up front. "I know, hard to believe."

Cuddy rolled her eyes exasperated at the whole scene and disrupted the conversation, "Would you two stop this stupid fight?! If you guys haven't noticed, we're trapped in a hospital infested with monsters, trying to survive! Make up your differences or…" "Or what? I've been doing just fine on my own." House spat back, popping an overdue Vicodin pill into his mouth. "Forget it, Cuddy; there's nothing in this world that we can do to convince him otherwise." Wilson added.

All of a sudden, the deafening air raid siren wailed back to life, signaling everyone's worst possible fate. "Not again!" Cuddy screamed through the unrelenting sound as she and the others covered their ears and watched as the hospital transitioned from tolerable into the hellish version of itself. Once the siren died down, the dust settled and the walls were once again covered in rust and gore. _That's just peachy…_


	15. Patient Care

A/N: The source of the Fog World, finally revealed! Or is it? Like I said, **Promise** is set before "Birthmarks" so pardon the hate between Wilson and House. This chapter is a transition so if any errors, please notify me. DISCLAIMER: House and characters (c) Fox and David Shore; the Fog World, the Otherworld and the monsters (c) KONAMI

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House quickly turned his flashlight and scanned the transformed area. "No welcoming committee?" But he heard no comeback from either the dean of medicine or the oncologist. Turning around, House found her unconscious on the floor, Wilson nowhere to be found. "Cuddy!" "Shh!" Wilson quieted the older doctor just a few feet away, concealing his position with an overturned cart. "How did you?" House started asking before Wilson signaled him to shut up and to follow him.

Steel pipe in tow, House made his way to Wilson's position. "What?" "We have company." Wilson replied, pointing to a couple of shadows all the way at the Clinic Area. "House, listen to me." "Why should I? All of the sudden, we're okay now?" House growled. "I know but please hear me out." Wilson practically pleaded with the diagnostician. House had no choice but allow his former friend to speak. "You have a gun right?" The older doctor nodded hesitantly. "Why?"

Wilson's stare dropped the floor as he continued, "I've been trying to figure out what's causing all of this ever since I got here. I think it has to do with one of the patients that arrived here, talking about some kind of cult activity. I need you to get that file over at the Clinic." "And Cuddy?" House pointed out. "I'll stay with her. House, this might just get us out of this." Wilson assured. "Fine, what's the patient's name?" "Jelia W. Samson."

Without saying a word, House crept up (with rather difficulty due to his infracted leg) towards the Clinic desk, doing his best to keep quiet. Once he was close enough to the desk, he pressed his back against it, turned off the flashlight and stayed still for a second, allowing a straightjacket to hobble through.

The otherworldly desk was covered in blood and burnt folder and papers save for two or three. After making sure he was alone in the desk, House silently climbed up and reached the folders and began searching around. _Jelia Samson, Jelia Samson…_it took another few but precious seconds until the diagnostician found the file he was looking for. He then crawled back to Wilson's side, careful not to let his presence known to anyone except the oncologist.

"So let's hear it." House barked as he handed the folder to his former friend. "Now?" Wilson inquired, rather surprised. "We're not getting any younger." Wilson shook his head, cleared his throat and read low enough for both doctors:

_Jelia W. Samson, Age 28, Place of Origin; (the line was unreadable due to an ink stain) Diagnosis: Terminal non-Hopkins leukemia as noted by Dr. J. Wilson ("Of course, had to be one of your radioactive people," House sniped)_

_Notes: Came in with dementia and hallucinations, claiming to bring about the end of times. Noted member of local doomsday cult, The Order of Last Days._

"Li'l miss Crazy acted on her revenge?" House voiced, rather perplexed at the file. "Looks like it. I cared for her but she refused Chemo and Radiotherapy. As if she wanted to die…" Wilson elaborated as he rubbed his forehead. "So, all we have to do is kill her and everything goes back to normal?" the diagnostician reasoned. "That's my conclusion…"

House then stood up rather painfully but managed to get back on his feet. "So where was Ms. Samson's last room before all of this?" "Room 525." "Well then, let's go. Don't forget Cuddy." He stated as he limped away from Wilson's side. Wilson grimaced for a second as he tried to wake the dean of medicine from her sleep. House will always be House…

As the oncologist stayed behind, House was able to think things more thoroughly and his mind was troubling him. _It's too convenient…sure, Ms. Samson could've caused all of this with who knows what,_ _but it still doesn't fit what possessed Thirteen said. Not to mention Cameron's warning…and that quick vision._ "Maybe I angered Ms. Samson's god in some way, shape or form?" House asked himself before he quickly tossed that idea out. _That's bullshit, I never even met her…_

Once Wilson caught up, carrying Cuddy piggyback, House dialed the up button. "What do you plan to do, House?" the oncologist asked as they entered the cabin. "First, kill the source of all of this, then go home, probably grab a scotch and finish off the day with a hooker named Belinda." The diagnostician replied nonchalantly as he punched in the 5th floor. "That's productive…" Wilson shot back, avoiding meeting the older doctor's gaze.

"Maybe you could…" The elevator suddenly became frigid before House could finish his sentence. "Nothing in this world will ever make me do anything with you, not after what happened." Wilson coldly cut off. "Dear God, let it go, Wilson." House groaned rather frustrated, infuriating the other doctor to no end. "You know what? Fuck the file; deep down, this whole thing is your fault; I just know it." the oncologist angrily concluded.

"Really? Then tell me, genius, how the hell am I doing all of this?" House fired back, almost amused by the argument. "I don't know but this has you written all over it!" the oncologist concluded just before the elevator door opened to a much more decrepit fifth floor, now filled distorted corpses and mannequins. "Oh yeah, this is you." Wilson quipped as House prepared himself. Before exiting, House dialed the third floor and whacked Wilson's knee, taking great pleasure as both doctors fell down to the ground. As the doors closed, House sweetly waved good-bye to the rather pissed-off oncologist. _Now to see what's behind door number 525…_


	16. Cutthroat Bitch

A/N: This chapter is actually one of the scariest I've ever written. The big reveal is soon but cookie to whoever figured it out! From here on out. it's gonna be pretty tragic so no killing me, the author. DISCLAIMER: House and characters (c) Fox and David Shore, the Otherworld and the monsters (c) KONAMI

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The otherworld's fifth floor was infested with not only nurses and straightjackets but now had more of the murderous children that tried to eat Cuddy not too long ago. House killed some and incapacitated others but he knew that to try and exterminate them all would be too wasteful; the current situation was overwhelming on its own, no need to waste precious energy and bullets. Room 525 proved to be a daunting task as its location lay on the farthest wing of the floor, near the emergency exit staircases, while House fought his way out of the reception area.

One of the gray brood managed to drive a knife into the doctor's infracted leg, causing him to fall down and scream in blinding pain. In reflex, House fired off his gun, instantly killing the creature and scaring off others. Blood poured from the wound and into the doctor's jeans as he coped with the blood loss. _Come on, I'm so close…_House repeated over and over his mind as he nursed his leg back to a usable state. A quick pill and the diagnostician struggled to get back to his feet.

The wound slowed him down considerably but House finally made his way to the room. Once there, he collapsed against the glass door and caught his breath. If the file was right, the source of everything that had happened was waiting inside, as well as the way out. House assessed his status and took out the empty gun cartridge and replaced it; he had only one more left and the pipe was only good with short-range attacks. _Here goes nothing…_

The inside of room 525 was even more than outside; messes of wire and steel cables held the whole room from the floor below. The tight space made walking around difficult, so House had to make sure he was aiming right. He could see the relief of a body lying down on the patient bed, slightly twitching at his presence; its bed sheets soaked in blood and pus. The stench was no better, as of the body had been rotting there for a while. The diagnostician's heart raced, his breath quickened as he grabbed one of the farthest edges of the covers and readied his gun.

He pulled the whole sheet off with a sharp tug only to find nothing there. House heard a death rattle from the leftmost edge of the room; he had no choice but to turn his flashlight on. In a corner stood a woman clad in patient's scrubs, her back facing the older doctor. "Ms. Samson?" His response a guttural sound, he raised his gun; adrenaline caused his hand to shake slightly.

"No, not Samson…" a hoarse female voice replied, a voice House knew and hadn't heard in three months. The specter turned around and added with a smile made by a surgical incision from ear to ear. "Volakis…" To House's shock, there stood the manifestation of Amber Volakis, former contestant in his game for a new team and now Wilson's dead girlfriend. Her body's state matched that of her death bed: pale and stained with red all over, with a new addition; her mutilated face and her throat slit, quite literally "Cutthroat Bitch".

She lounged at her boss with a saw and with deep ferocity, her death rattle trailing House's every move. "Amber?!" the diagnostician managed to yell before avoiding another swipe. "Who did this to you?!" Her entire head hanging dangerously from her neck, the woman receded and as she prepared for another attack, she responded, "You did, remember?"

In that instant, House was able to get a clear shot of her and fired off twice. The body fell down for a moment due to the recoil but almost instantly got back up, centipedes and other insects now crawling of the wounds. "You did this to us…you made this happen…" she moaned as she neared the crippled doctor, her blade instrument lighting up the dank room.

Suddenly, everything made sense to the doctor as he struggled to attack the being: the fog, the monsters, the Otherworld, the pyramid-headed monster, and Cameron's death… "I understand." House murmured to himself, stopping Amber cold in her tracks. _I have to warn them before it's too late._

_But first, I have to stop Amber from killing me…_The diagnostician thought as he raised his weapon, right into the creature's heart. He then shot her three times, just prior to his gun clicking empty. The body fell limp once more as the air raid sirens howled once more. As the hospital transformed back to its current, fog world state, House watched as Amber disappeared along with Room 525 before he himself was knocked out unconscious.

House woke up in the fifth floor reception area with his gun fully loaded; as if the fight with Amber Volakis' memory had never taken place. His mind resolute, House decided that, for once, he'd have to take the stairs; the elevators would be too easy for the force that made all of this to notice him._ I have to warn them all…_


	17. Betrayal

A/N: The reveal...cue dramatic music... Reviews are welcome! DISCLAIMER: House and characters (c) Fox, monsters, fog world, Otherworld (c) KONAMI

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Cuddy and Foreman, along with Wilson, Thirteen and Kutner, waited for that elevator door to ring on the third floor; it would mean House had come back safely from Room 525. Wilson had filled everyone in on the situation so everyone's hope rode on Ms. Samson's demise.

"Don't even bother." Foreman heard House's cynical voice echo from the emergency stairway. "House?!" "Are you all right?" Cuddy asked as she wrapped her arms around the curmudgeon. "I'm fine." The diagnostician replied as he freed himself from her arms. "So?" Foreman continued. "So what?" "Did you kill Ms. Samson?" "Oh, I did," Before anyone could breathe in relief, House quickly quipped, "only it wasn't Ms. Samson."

"What? Are you sure?" Wilson added, rather shocked. Suddenly, House raised his gun to Wilson's head, arousing horrified gasps from everyone. "What the fuck is wrong with you, House?!" Cuddy shrieked, trying her best to push down the weapon. "That's Wilson!" House was unrelenting in his grip. "Think about it; what's the patient's name?"

"Jelia W. Samson, but that's not important!" the Dean of Medicine responded. "Of course it does." The diagnostician continued, pressing the barrel of his weapon onto the oncologist's forehead. The chocolate eyes were laced with fear as blue eyes icily stared back. "Mix the letters up and what do you get?" No one other than the older doctor understood what he meant so he responded his own question, "A James Wilson."

Kutner's jaw dropped as everyone else coped with the revelation. "Wilson? You did all this?" Foreman choked. "No! House's gone mad!" House then smirked and added, "But you're not Wilson, are you?" "See? He's crazy!" Wilson pleaded. "Two things gave you away: you didn't react to the monsters like everyone else…" "And the other one?" House then pointed his gun to the younger man's lower face and replied, "You missed his mole, completely throwing off his boyish good looks."

Almost instantly, a wicked grin took over Wilson's face, "Oh, did I? Let me fix that." he then waved his hand over the spot and in a second, the characteristic surfaced. "You're good, Dr. Gregory House…" the man replied as he changed in front of everyone's eyes; his body became emaciated and skin paled up and even some parts rotted away.

"Where's the real Wilson?" House inquired, his gun steady. "You're so good that you earned yourself a prize." The Wilson doppelganger added with a cock to the head. "I'll let you capture me so I can answer that question and five more of your choosing." Noticing the man's willingness, House signaled Foreman and Kutner to hold him down and to carry him over to his office.

Before House could enter, he looked over to Cuddy; she looked even more shaken than before. "How did you know?" she asked in a whisper. "Everybody lies, even Wilson." House answered as he led her into his office.

Inside, the Wilson doppelganger was strapped down to one of the chairs, although House knew the being was faking capture; this thing was toying with them. "What are your rules?" Foreman asked as House entered the room. The Wilson lookalike smiled and replied, "That's a freebie: all of you have five questions, not including the one about Dr. Wilson's location. After those five questions, I'll be waiting for anyone who wants to see one more time."

"Fine, who are you?" the neurologist stated, incensed. "I'm Wilson, House, Cuddy and I can also be you but you're no fun." The being responded, changing into every person mentioned at a blink of the eyes to prove his point. The now Foreman lookalike then grinned at House, "I like being Wilson." This infuriated House to no end, "I'll bet. Where did you come from?"

The being shrugged once he resumed Wilson's appearance. "I'm everywhere, you should know that. From the bed you slept on this morning to that tiny corner in Pediatrics, I was there. Next question." "Why'd you kill Cameron?" Kutner shot back. "She knew too much and I couldn't kill her personally so I sent my agent. I apologize to you, Dr. House, you weren't supposed to see that. Next." The doppelganger answered nonchalantly, everyone else in the room thankful Chase was nowhere near the area.

"How do you get out this place?" Cuddy asked, her state of mind clearly on the fragile side, she couldn't take the betrayal. The creature sighed before he responded, "I'm inclined to feel pity for you but sorry, there's no way out, since there's no in, get my drift? Last question, so make it count."

Before anyone could say anything, House cut in and formulated, "Well, we can't ask you how we can kill you because you'd say that we'd all have to kill ourselves and that's not very productive. We can't ask you to for any favors because that would go against your nature…" The being turned to Thirteen and mouthed while nodding 'He's really good'. "Why the keys, the notes, the puzzles?"

The creature evidently did not enjoy the question so he replied, "He knew you'd like them." Suddenly, the Wilson lookalike lit up and sat straight. "Time's up and if I were you, I'd watch out for Dr. Chase; he's a little off the rocker since I killed his girlfriend." The being whispered into House's ear before he vanished into thin air at a moment's notice.


	18. Entwined in Macabre Matrimony

A/N: Only a couple of chapters left and then the endings...sorry to all Chase fans too! Cookie to whoever figures out who died in this manner in Silent Hill 2. Reviews are welcome! DISCLAIMER: House and characteristics (c) Fox and David Shore, the fog world and the monsters (c) KONAMI

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Foreman all of a sudden grabbed House by the jacket lapels and shouted, "Why did you waste our last question?!" House freed himself with a quick shove and then replied, "I didn't waste it; I used it for confirmation, Wilson's alive." "Wilson caused all of this! He deserves to die!" the neurologist yelled back. "Maybe he can reverse this! I mean; House was able to reverse my infection!" Thirteen reasoned, stepping in Wilson's defense. "What do you think, Dr. Cuddy?"

The Dean of Medicine was a blank and waived her hand slightly, "I don't know and for once, I really don't give a damn. I just want to get out of here." "Regardless, we have to find him if we want any answers." Kutner argued while House quietly observed the seat that "held" the Wilson doppelganger or Dark Wilson as he aptly named him. One last note lay there, reading the same as the note Cuddy held in her pocket, "TO MRI"

Out of the blue, the smell of charring linoleum permeated the man's senses. The smoke alerted everyone left; somewhere, the hospital was burning. The being's warning took relevance as House quickly asked, "Where did Chase go?" No one but Foreman had an answer; "He said he was going to the morgue…something about putting Cameron's body in a safe place." House then sped off, taking the neurologist with, as if poetic that this would be the last time all of his former ducklings would be in the same room again.

The elevator wasn't quick enough as the doctors arrived at the basement floor. The entire floor was burning down, threatening the hospital's support foundation. But what caught the men's attention was not the fire but who had caused it. At the base of the stairs stood Chase, his back facing his former boss and fellow as he whispered sweet words to Cameron's corpse.

"Chase!" Foreman shouted through the deafening sounds of wood incinerating, catching the surgeon's attention. Chase's expression was a mixture of melancholy and happiness once he recognized their presence and said, "I'm leaving now." "Chase, don't." House quietly warned, not able to meet the Australian's eyes. "It's all right, House; I've made up my mind." Chase interrupted while cradling Cameron in his arms. "You know, Cameron and I were waddling around aimlessly in our relationship…but it wasn't until this nightmare that she actually said that she loved me."

The diagnostician couldn't imagine the anguish Chase was experiencing, so much that he was driven to suicide. The Australian surgeon embraced the dead immunologist one last time before he started going down the blazing staircase. "Thank you." were his last words.

Foreman tried to reach out but House blocked him. "But House!" "Let them go." The older doctor assured, his voice quivering slightly and unsure of himself. They then watched helplessly Chase's slow descent into the inferno he had made for him and his dearly departed girlfriend. Almost seconds before both disappeared from the doctors' line of sight, a couple of support beams caved in behind him, as if to isolate the grieving man from the rest of the world and into his death. House couldn't help himself and, in a gravelly tone, declared, "I now pronounce you Mr. and Mrs. Robert Chase."

The basement fire began to spin out of control, prompting both doctors to leave their fellow behind. The elevator ride was quiet; neither House nor Foreman wanted to acknowledge the fact that they had just allowed Chase to kill himself. The neurologist was the first to speak, "We have to get out of here." "You heard the doppelganger…there's no way out."

Foreman shot House a knowing glare as he replied, "There is a way out, you just don't want to accept it." " I will NOT kill Wilson." "And why the fuck not?! He did this to us! You can't be serious!" the neurologist yelled, infuriated at his boss' stubbornness. "The reason I left you way back when you wanted to go to the morgue is the same; you are driven to do these stupid things by an irrational desire to see a person who pretty much hates you enough to kill, read KILL, you. What the hell is motivating you?"

Tired of Foreman's tirade, House raised his gun and motioned him quiet. "I have unfinished business with Wilson and I won't stop until I do." In a rare moment, the diagnostician allowed some of his own mental instability to surface for a second when he continued, "I have to, even if I get torn apart limb from limb, I have to see Wilson."

Foreman's eyes widened at the demonstration of House's seething insanity and came to the same conclusion as he did once he regained his composure; the hospital was pushing their wits to the end. Once they arrived at the third floor, both were greeted by a hysterical Thirteen hiding in a corner, hyperventilating in torn clothes.

"Are you all right?" Foreman asked as he rushed to Dr. Hadley's aid. Her green-yellow eyes wide with fear-ridden tears, Thirteen was able to murmur, "The boogeyman took Cuddy; he took her to the Examination rooms…" "Calm down, what do you mean 'boogeyman'?" the neurologist continued, trying to make sense of his fellow doctor. "The pyramid thing, he took Cuddy…"

House darted off the scene and went straight to the third floor examination rooms. "Don't do it House!" he could hear Thirteen scream as Foreman tried to restrain her. "You two get Kutner and get to the sixth floor, now!" House barked as he opened the door and hurried inside, never to be seen again by both doctors.

Foreman did his best to drag the intensivist up on her feet but she kept repeating over and over, "They're dead, they're dead, they're dead…"


	19. Our Truth

A/N: The beginning of the end...you don't like the slash overtones, I'm sorry but this story was intended to have them. DISCLAIMER: House and characters (c) Fox and David Shore, fog world, Pyramid Head and some of Wilson's story (c) KONAMI

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The third floor examination room had transformed from a couple of walls that separated spaces to a massive execution plaza. House didn't take long to find Cuddy within the space; she was strapped upside down inside a metal cage, crying her eyes out and pleading with the tormentor not to kill her.

The pyramid-headed monster grabbed his giant knife and prepared to skewer the Dean of Medicine when House's presence distracted him. "Don't even think about it." House snapped, his weapon steady. Suddenly, he realized a pattern in the creature's behavior; first Cameron, then Cuddy…the tormentor was targeting his own one-night stands and flings. _The monster was just as a product of the evil within Wilson as it is my own…_

"You have no more power over me!" House shouted, noting how ridiculous he sounded. The pyramid-headed monster flinched at the words, allowing Cuddy a period of grace. "I know who you are! Wilson made you so I could feel guilty about everything I've ever done to him and to them! But now, I don't feel guilt anymore…" The monster jumped down and threatened House with his oversized weapon. "There's no more purpose for you." was the last thing House said prior to unloading five out of the final twelve bullets he had left.

The diagnostician rolled to the side and avoided a nearly fatal swing. But before anyone could react, the monster did something House wasn't expecting at all: it drove the hilt of its weapon to the ground and impaled itself through the sheltered head. "Whoa." House croaked as he began releasing Cuddy from her prison. The woman fell into his arms and, as she broke down for the last time, she asked, "How did you know?" "I didn't." House replied honestly.

Once House made sure Cuddy was fine enough to leave, he held out his hand. "Give me your MRI room key." "Why?" "I'm going to solve this; go to the sixth floor, anyone who's still alive is held up there." The diagnostician didn't allow for any arguments as he accompanied the mentally fragile dean to the door. "What if you don't come back?" was the question begging to be asked but neither could say it; it wasn't an option. Instead, Cuddy patted House's shoulder and gave him a soft, thankful kiss on his rough lips as she handed the key over. "Send my regards."

After much struggle, pain and a double dose of Vicodin, House managed to go down a flight of stairs to the second floor once more. The MRI room was just a walk away, with barely a groan from any monster but House felt no security in the desolate area. Even though Kutner and Thirteen had checked the area for any supplies, House went in and checked. Inside the MRI machine was a small wooden box with a small lock on it. The diagnostician wasted no time, took the item out its confines and inserted the key into the keyhole.

House slowly opened the box and observed its contents before taking them out; it was a VCR tape with a sticky note that read "Watch in my office", written in Wilson's handwriting along with the room's key. "James…what do you want to tell me?" House asked himself as he readied himself to go up the stair one more time, up to Wilson's office.

The oncologist's office was just as he had left it before he resigned from Princeton-Plainsboro; neat and organized save for the television and the VCR player placed on the desk. The diagnostician pulled up a chair (he might as well make himself more comfortable), flicked both devices on and plopped in the video.

The video shot as if it were through Wilson's own point of view, through his own eyes, in a black-and-white…

_Static took over as the first sequence of events took place, with Wilson and House himself chatting over a plate of take-out but the diagnostician could tell something else went through his former friend's mind…something that terrified him even more than any monster._

_The next images were at least four months old, as Amber's face smiled while they leaned against the railings of an amusement park of an unnamed town, with a lighthouse within sight. She said something House couldn't understand but he could tell it made Wilson happy…_

_Static interlude and then came Amber's last moments, as she died in Wilson's arms. The images trembled, as if furious and grieving. House watched the video as Amber's final breath exited her body._

_A quick distortion and House was in Wilson's office, a couple of days since the accident. The oncologist was enraged, why did Amber have to die?! He felt to his knees and wept bitterly, IT SHOULD'VE BEEN HOUSE! A small but pale hand took the man's chin and raised it to her eye level. At first it was a little girl in a blue dress but at a blink of an eye, the being became Wilson's image and said in a low but sickeningly sweet tone, "I can help you…"_

_The images then switched to a massacre of patients and fellow doctors. "Stop! This isn't what I meant!" Wilson screamed at the top of his lungs but the impersonator paid no attention; it was having too much fun killing all those innocent people in the Otherworld it had made. The creature even shoved the oncologist aside while gleefully stating, to the man's horror, "You wanted all of this, you got it!"_

_The final images were a compilation but all involved Wilson realizing one thing; he still had control. The next scene involved him rolling his sleeves and connecting himself to a couple of IVs. Then Wilson said, as if acknowledging House's company,_

"I can contain him, but I don't know for how long…I just hope House can figure all this out before that other me takes over completely…House, if you're watching this; I'm so sorry…I never meant for this to happen…I just wanted some retribution but this, this…House…I lo…" the video scratched the sound but House needed no sound to understand what he meant. The video died down to reveal the blue screen.

The video exhausted the normally stoic man almost to the point of tears. Dark Wilson was right; it was his entire fault. The diagnostician sat there for a while, his head hanging defeated while he mindlessly toyed with his cane. But his brain sparked back, even more determined than before; he would have to face Wilson's demons as well as his own. Before he left, he left a final note, folded it half and left it on top of the desk.


	20. Never Too Late

A/N: We're almost finished with this story and I would like to thank you guys for the reviews and the reads. Reviews are always welcome! DISCLAIMER: House and characters (c) Fox and David Shore; the Fog World, the Otherworld and monsters (c) KONAMI

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The diagnostician made his presence known as he dialed the up button. From the back of his head, he could hear the sing along and tried to block it out,

_Where's Momma Cuddy? She's sad with no one with her there. Why is she so sad? Because she doesn't have kids like us…_

"That can't be good." House said under his breath as the cabin rode up to the sixth floor. Once there, he followed the song down the hall, all the way to the last couple of offices, until it stopped over the Dean of Medicine's office. The diagnostician spotted Cuddy's svelte silhouette against the dim light and allowed himself inside.

The broken woman's back greeted him along with children's giggles and mumbling. Before House said anything, the dean chuckled dryly as she remained still. "I didn't go straight to this floor like you told me to…I went to see Chase and Cameron over at the basement." Cuddy said with a voice that seemed demoralized yet…satisfied. "Their corpses looked pretty mangled but I could still see it."

"See what?" House inquired, keeping his distance just in case Cuddy would attack him. "They were happy, House. I couldn't help but feel a little jealous. I mean, all I've ever wanted was to have a child; that would make me so happy." The dean replied in a sad note. "Cuddy, what are you getting at?"

Cuddy spun around and, with a miserable smile, she responded, "I want to stay here…in this place, there are children that need a mother; I can hear them." House's heart dropped, not Cuddy too. "Cuddy, there are no children here…they're a figment of your imagination." The older doctor softly reasoned. "Then let me stay in this imaginary world." Cuddy desperately insisted. "I don't care if Wilson made all of this just to kill you but at least he gave me a chance at something I never did back in the real world."

As Cuddy said this, House drew back, horrified; blood began pouring out of every orifice in the dean's face. "House…Greg…please let me be." Her tone softened. In that moment, the murderous gray children surfaced from the office's dark corner and crawled closer to the woman. The diagnostician limped as fast as he could out of the enclosed space and held the door shut with his body, as Cuddy's silhouette fell down and welcomed the ungodly brood.

_Mommy's here…_was the last House ever heard of Dr. Lisa Cuddy's voice. That was the final straw; House had to make a choice; save Wilson and hope for the best, or kill him and wake everyone out this nightmare.

Just a second after coming into that decision, the elevator rang back to life and opened its doors, as if inviting the older doctor. House smirked cynically; he knew exactly who had called the elevator: Dark Wilson. "Son of a bitch wants to play, I'm game." He growled under his breath as he hobbled into the cabin.

The lit dial read the seventh floor, meaning the roof, so House had to climb a flight of stairs. Swallowing his last Vicodin in his bottle, the diagnostician made his way up, while disembodied memories replayed themselves, ranging from his father's torment, Stacy's decision, Tritter, and Wilson's last day in Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital. The heavy metal door at the end of the short journey seemed like it came out of the Otherworld; blood-soaked and covered in rust. Before pushing the door, House reloaded his gun a final time; it was do or die. This is it…I'm coming, Wilson…

The roof level, unlike its entrance, seemed part of the fog-ridden world, not decrepit but still quite unnerving. On the edge stood Wilson, just as proper and collected as ever, but House knew better. "You came." The look-a-like noted as he took in the panoramic view. "You were expecting me." House replied, weapon concealed.

The comment arose a sarcastic chuckle from the doppelganger. "You saw the video too?" No response from House confirmed the answer. "That performance brought me to tears; really Oscar material." The diagnostician was enraged, causing the being to laugh heartily. "Where's Wilson?" the doctor snapped.

"If I knew, I would've killed him ages ago and you'd just have been a smudge of brain matter stuck to my shoe. No, your dear Wilson is somewhere in the hospital, protecting you from somewhere I can't enter." Dark Wilson replied, relishing in the man's anger and guilt. "I was hoping you'd figure it out once you got up here but I expected too much."

House's sanity shattered for a second; he swiftly pulled out his gun and fired one bullet straight to the doppelganger's forehead. The body fell back to the ground and bled for a moment before it broke into hysterical laughter. "God, you're stupid!" the Wilson look-a-like shouted at the top of his lungs as the blood pooled around him. "You really want to die?!" The diagnostician then replied as he clicked the weapon alive again. "Sure, why not?"

The ground under House's feet shook as the being transformed into its true self; the doppelganger engorged itself into a bloated cancerous mass with two faces and multiple limbs stitched together; all held together in a metal railing. House fell back but kept his determination; this thing had to go.


	21. Absolution

The diagnostician wasted no time and tried to line a shot to the monster's head but the creature proved to be surprisingly agile. Crawling around the ground and newly formed railings, the cancer spewed acid all over the area, making movement near impossible for the crippled doctor. Once House was trapped in an uncomfortable corner of the roof, the monster lounged at the infracted leg but only got a mouthful of steel pipe.

The bite was so strong that the pipe split in half, so House had to make sure he didn't get mauled. For a split second, he was able to shoot one of the monster's limbs, causing a piercing scream of pain from the creature. The limb fell off but the monster kept going, driven to eat the doctor alive.

House did his best to avoid both the acids and the bites but he knew he only had a few moments between each attack to fire. His time was also limited to the Vicodin's effect on his already existing pain and the adrenaline running through his body. The monster suddenly dropped down to the floor and snarled; House could still remnants of Wilson's face in it but he had no time to dwell on it; he fired twice onto the head, arousing enough blood loss to slow down the creature.

Using this to his advantage, the diagnostician was able to empty his gun cartridge, finally paralyzing the monstrous being in one place. The creature squirmed and convulsed as the doctor reached for one of the pipe remains and limp his way to its position.

In an erratic and unearthly voice, the monster threatened, "I'll come back…as long as Wilson's still alive, I'll always come back…" "I'll take my chances." House spat back, gasping for air. The diagnostician then yelled as he drove the mangled side of the remaining pipe materials into the monster's brain with every last drop of strength he had, ceasing all movements with a final blood splatter.

Exhausted, House fell back and allowed himself to breathe while the Otherworld receded back and the fog world return. The monster was never able to figure out where Wilson was but the diagnostician knew. In that instant and for the first time in the longest of years, House wept hard; he had survived this nightmare, all to see Wilson one last time, and now he had to kill him.

Suddenly, he remembered about the two vials he had left over from Thirteen's possession, and quickly took them out. The yellow one still read 'Sun' and the other read 'Kill'. House understood what the poem meant: the Sun was to be used to wake Wilson from his IV-induced coma he committed himself in the video and the Kill was to murder him.

It seemed an eternity but House finally made up his mind. Using the floor to help him stand up, he grabbed anything he could and used it as a replacement cane before going down the stairs to the seventh floor. He then used the emergency stairs to get to the third floor, and once there, smiled sadly; the place Dark Wilson could never access was one only the real Wilson and House would know about.

House entered Wilson's office and searched for a moment behind one of the Alfred Hitchcock posters leftover from the moving day. Evidently, there was a small keyhole doorknob that locked down a secret room. House then looked around and, just like old times, found the key taped under the desk, hidden from prying eyes. He inserted the key and slowly opened the door inside.

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Author's Note:

**Like I said in the beginning, this story has multiple ending, with 6 endings to pick from, including one Joke ending. If you haven't played Silent Hill, then let me explain the rules:**

**The Joke ending can be read at any time (a freebie ending) but you must choose at least one of the other following endings to complete the story to whatever you want it to end:**

**Torment**

**Humane**

**Promise**

**Reverie**

**Leave**

**Game (Joke Ending)**

**Now, these endings range in the final outcome but you can read the others whenever you like. To all those diehard SH, I'm sorry but I couldn't fit in the UFO ending… Thank you for all the reads, reviews and support, so Enjoy! **


	22. Ending: Torment

A/N: If you picked ending, this is the worst case scenario (or in game!Speak the Bad + ending). Reviews are welcome! DISCLAIMER: House and characters (c) Fox and David Shore; the fog world and the monsters (c) KONAMI

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Ending 1: Bad+ : Torment

Once he opened the door, House immediately closed his eyes shut tight. He heard Wilson's soft breath and once again opened his eyes. Wilson was there, lying on the bed, observing the world through a solitary window. The intravenous tubing was still connected to his arms, sustaining the man as he held off the hospital's hellish side.

"Hello, House." The oncologist greeted with a weathered expression. "Hello to you too." The diagnostician replied as he limped his way to the other's side. "How's life been treating you?" Wilson breathed in deeply before he responded, "Could be better…House, I…" House shushed him quiet and placed a chaste kiss on the forehead. "I know and I should apologize." Wilson chuckled for a moment. "But you won't; you never apologize for anything you do."

"Would you have me any other way?" House spat back playfully. "Anyways, let's get you out of those tubes and get ourselves wasted." "I can't, I can't leave this place." Wilson ruefully interrupted. "Of course you can, I killed the big bad dark Wilson. By the way, I'm recommending you to a psychiatrist." House retorted as he disconnected the IV units and helped the oncologist out of the bed.

As both doctors were about to step out, Wilson tugged House back and shook his head. "I can't. House, accept it. I can't leave…ever." House sighed and said in a trembling voice, "I really hoped you wouldn't say that."

Back in reality, House opened his eyes and dropped down to his knees, ignoring the mind-numbing pain that resulted from it. He rather preferred to stay in that wonderful dream than see the horrid truth. In the middle of the secret room hung one James Wilson's body, held up by the IV tubing he had seen in the video. By the looks of his skin and lip color, he had been dead for almost 12 hours, meaning he had died right around the hour House had woken up.

Despair overtook the older doctor but he hid it gracefully as he took his dearly departed friend off the noose and placed him on the bed. No words escaped House's mouth as he covered the body with a sheet and kissed his cheek. With Wilson dead, there was no way out of the nightmare; that monster had just been feeding everyone lies for his own amusement. A distraught House then exited the room and dragged himself aimlessly to the elevator.

A few hours later, Foreman was holding up the front on the first floor when he spotted a way out of the hospital; someone had left the main door open. "Kutner, get Thirteen!" he yelled as he made his way to the exit. The sports medicine doctor followed orders and led the intensivist to the neurologist's position.

The fog was still overpowering their line of sight but all three doctors made it out to the front plaza. They were just about to enter the parking lot when Kutner spotted House's cane on the floor. "Guys, wait!" he called as he followed the cane and later an ominous trail of red. "What is it?" Foreman asked as he tried to make sense of the new development. But just a few feet ahead, he got his answer and then some.

The partially consumed body of one Greg House was there for anyone to see; his infracted leg was torn off as his torso were exposed to the elements, as if eaten by the surrounding monsters. All three were shell-shocked and paralyzed with fear; there was no way out.


	23. Ending: Humane

A/N: If you picked this ending, you picked the second Bad ending. Bad endings are those that are the worst case scenario for the story. Reviews are welcome! DISCLAIMER: House and characters (c) Fox and David Shore; fog world (c) KONAMI

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Ending 2: Bad: Humane

House opened the door and sighed in deep relief but even deeper regret of what he was about to do. Wilson lay on the hospital bed with half a dozen IVs connected to his arms; sleeping soundly in his induced coma. The oncologist's clothes were clean and slightly rumpled except for the bloody sleeve where all the tubing originated. House imagined the amount of anxiety that caused all of the black and blue bruising in that area along with the small blood splattering.

The diagnostician took one look at the vitals on the screens then sat down besides his old friend. He then brushed off some stray hairs from the peaceful face and rearranged some tangled up IVs. "Wilson, if you can hear me, even though I doubt it, it's me, House. You were right, I was able to figure everything out and then some." House started as he fixed the oncologist's pillow.

"And all I have to say is…wow, you really do hate me. But at the same time, I couldn't help feeling you were always there, with the notes, the clues, the keys; you were your usual over-protective self. Now I understand why…" he continued with a soft smile as he placed a small peck on Wilson's forehead. House then took out the two vials and observed them for the last time before dropping the Sun vial to the floor.

As he prepped a syringe with the Kill vial, the older doctor continued, "You don't deserve to suffer for what you did; for all the people you killed, for all the torment you caused." House stopped for a second to inject the red poison into Wilson's IV. "You deserve better."

After the syringe was emptied out, House sat down and waited. The poison was a silent killer, slowing down the heart's function in the deep sleep, allowing the oncologist a peaceful death. The diagnostician remained in a silent lamenting vigil until the machine wailed down to its demise. Once Wilson was pronounced, House pulled the sheet over his head and shut down every device and closed off every IV.

He then pulled out his gun, and clicked it open. Ironically, there was one last bullet left; all that he needed. The diagnostician raised the nuzzle to his temple and with a smile, said before pulling the trigger, "See you in hell, Jimmy." The bullet exited through the other side of House's head, killing him instantly. The body fell on top of his best friend's corpse, his fresh blood mingling with the other's dried up pools.


	24. Ending: Promise

A/N: If you picked this, this is the Neutral ending. This ending is the one that would've happened regardless of the player's actions and so this rule applies here. Reviews are welcome! DISCLAIMER: Don't own nada.

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Ending 3: Neutral: Promise

House opened the door and sighed in deep relief but even deeper regret of what he was about to do. Wilson lay on the hospital bed with half a dozen IVs connected to his arms; sleeping soundly in his induced coma. The oncologist's clothes were clean and slightly rumpled except for the bloody sleeve where all the tubing originated. House imagined the amount of anxiety that caused all of the black and blue bruising in that area along with the small blood splattering.

The diagnostician took one look at the vitals on the screens then sat down besides his old friend. He then brushed off some stray hairs from the peaceful face and rearranged some tangled up IVs. "Wilson, if you can hear me, even though I doubt it, it's me, House. You were right, I was able to figure everything out and then some." House started as he fixed the oncologist's pillow.

"And all I have to say is…wow, you really do hate me. But at the same time, I couldn't help feeling you were always there, with the notes, the clues, the keys; you were your usual over-protective self. Now I understand why…" he continued with a soft smile as he placed a small peck on Wilson's forehead. House then took out the two vials and observed them for the last time before dropping the Sun vial to the floor. "And you warrant better; you always did."

As he prepped a syringe with the Kill vial, the older doctor continued, "You don't deserve to suffer for what you did; for all the people you killed, for all the torment you caused." House stopped for a second to inject the red poison into Wilson's IV. "You earned better, this I promise you."

After the syringe was emptied out, House sat down and waited. The poison was a silent killer, slowing down the heart's function in the deep sleep, allowing the oncologist a peaceful death. The diagnostician remained in a silent lamenting vigil until the machine wailed down to its demise. Once Wilson was pronounced, House pulled the sheet over his head and shut down every device and closed off every IV.

With nothing left in the room, House stood up and gave the body one last kiss on the forehead before exiting the room. As he closed the door with the key, he heard the ground growl as Princeton-Plainboro Teaching Hospital returned to its original state. House could hear the chatter of other living people closing in and closed his eyes.

Once he reopened them, he found himself in Wilson's empty office, as other doctors and nurses went about their lives. The door had disappeared along with the fog, denying House the pleasure of ever visiting his friend again. He also discovered that only Foreman, Thirteen and Kutner returned: all who died in that nightmare remained dead or, in Cuddy's case, chose to remain there, stayed behind and disappeared as well.

"Are we really home?" the sports medicine doctor inquired as House entered his office and grabbed a bottle of proofed scotch. "Of course we are…whether we deserved it or not." He responded as he poured himself a glass. Here's to you Wilson, rest in peace.


	25. Ending: Reverie

A/N: This is the first of the two Good endings and my personal favorite. These are the best case scenarios. Reviews are welcome! DISCLAIMER: don't own nothing.

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Ending 4: Good: Reverie

House opened the door and sighed in deep relief, both for his finding and what he was about to do. Wilson lay on the hospital bed with half a dozen IVs connected to his arms, sleeping soundly in his induced coma. The oncologist's clothes were clean and slightly rumpled except for the bloody sleeve where all the tubing originated. House imagined the amount of anxiety that caused all of the black and blue bruising in that area along with the small blood splattering.

The diagnostician took one look at the vitals on the screens then sat down besides his old friend. He then brushed off some stray hairs from the peaceful face and rearranged some tangled up IVs. "Wilson, if you can hear me, even though I doubt it, it's me, House. You were right, I was able to figure everything." House started as he fixed the oncologist's pillow.

"And all I have to say is…I couldn't help feeling you were always there, with the notes, the clues, the keys; you were your usual over-protective self. I understand…" he continued with a soft smile as he placed a small peck on Wilson's forehead. House then took out the two vials and observed them for the last time before dropping the Kill vial to the floor. "Time to wake up."

As he prepped a syringe with the Sun vial, the older doctor reached over to one of the IVs and folded it. He then injected the substance in the stream and released the tubing back into Wilson's blood stream. It took a short while before the oncologist's eyes fluttered open. "…House?" "Morning, sunshine…or should I say, Afternoon?" the diagnostician replied with a smirk.

"Did you?" Wilson began in a tired tone prior to House cutting him short. "Kill the big, bad you? Yeah, I did." "House, I'm so sorry; I should've just ended it all before it got out of hand." The oncologist murmured as he tried to cope for his action. "So?" House shot back casually. "People died!" "People are supposed to die anyways, now let's get out of here and get ourselves wasted out of our minds." The older doctor assured; Wilson hadn't changed a bit.

"I can't leave. But I can send you and the rest back." Wilson said as he sat down on the bed. House thought about the offer and quickly made up his mind. "Send everyone else back." "What?" "I want to stay here…" The oncologist's head snapped towards his friend and gave him a disbelieving look. "Why?" House chuckled for a second and replied, "How kickass is the fact that you made a whole new world in which we can do as we please in here? And there's that tiny detail of spending eternity with you; not the greatest concept ever conceived but I can work with it." Wilson processed the idea and laughed, "Eternity with Greg House? That's punishment enough!"

Cuddy woke up with a start; she felt as if she had died suddenly. She scanned her surroundings and tried to make sense of what had happened; had it all been a dream? Everything in PPTH looked just as it always did; patients going in and out while doctors and nurses did their work. Even her office was immaculate; as if nothing had happened that day.

The Dean of Medicine sprinted to the Diagnostics department, avoiding hitting anyone in her path. Along the way, she stopped at the ICU unit and spotted Cameron, alive, and just as confused as she was. The immunologist even had her hand over her abdomen, hovering the spot where the pyramid-headed creature had stabbed and killed her back in the fog-ridden world. Over at the Surgery ward, Cuddy found Chase drinking a rather large glass of water, face reading disbelief at returning to normalcy.

House's office was empty but his team was already there, case at hand and board scribbled on. Foreman, Taub, Thirteen and Kutner were all focused in the case so they almost didn't catch Cuddy's entrance. "You're all alive?" "Shouldn't we?" Taub shot. "You were dead, you shouldn't remember…" Thirteen assisted her coworker. "We just woke up and everything was like it was before." Foreman explained. "So where's House?" Everyone in the room became silent as no one came up with a logical answer. "He never showed up for the case briefing."

Unable to understand, Cuddy walked over to Wilson's office and, using her Master Key, clicked the lock open. Inside the space were a pile of folders; a couple of boxes and a clear desk save for a folded note. The dean slowly approached the desk and grabbed the note. It read in House's handwriting, _I'm sorry. I love you too._

Cuddy broke down into tears as House and Wilson observed from the fog world. All three were in the same room but Cuddy would never see them again. Wilson placed a hand on her shoulder and tried to comfort her but all she could feel a presence over her. "Take care." Was the last House ever said to Cuddy before he limped away from the office, Wilson following suit.

Back in the real world, the dean regained her composure and put the note in her pocket. She then headed down to the morgue, got a couple of papers and began filling in the lines. With her as a legal proxy, she signed away the death certificates of Gregory House and James Wilson, cause unknown.


	26. Ending: Leave

A/N: This is the best case scenario so enjoy! Thank you for all your reads, reviews and support! Reviews are welcome! DISCLAIMER: I don't own anything

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Ending 5: Good +: Leave

House opened the door and sighed in deep relief, both for his finding and what he was about to do. Wilson lay on the hospital bed with half a dozen IVs connected to his arms, sleeping soundly in his induced coma. The oncologist's clothes were clean and slightly rumpled except for the bloody sleeve where all the tubing originated. House imagined the amount of anxiety that caused all of the black and blue bruising in that area along with the small blood splattering.

The diagnostician took one look at the vitals on the screens then sat down besides his old friend. He then brushed off some stray hairs from the peaceful face and rearranged some tangled up IVs. "Wilson, if you can hear me, even though I doubt it, it's me, House. You were right, I was able to figure everything." House started as he fixed the oncologist's pillow.

"And all I have to say is…I couldn't help feeling you were always there, with the notes, the clues, the keys; you were your usual over-protective self. I understand…" he continued with a soft smile as he placed a small peck on Wilson's forehead. House then took out the two vials and observed them for the last time before dropping the Kill vial to the floor. "Time to wake up."

As he prepped a syringe with the Sun vial, the older doctor reached over to one of the IVs and folded it. He then injected the substance in the stream and released the tubing back into Wilson's blood stream. It took a short while before the oncologist's eyes fluttered open. "…House?" "Morning, sunshine…or should I say, Afternoon?" the diagnostician replied with a smirk.

"Did you?" Wilson began in a tired tone prior to House cutting him short. "Kill the big, bad you? Yeah, I did. By the way, I'm recommending you a psychologist for your inability to cope with loss." "House, I'm so sorry; I should've just ended it all before it got out of hand." The oncologist murmured as he tried to cope for his action. "So?" House shot back casually. "People died!" "People are supposed to die anyways, now let's get out of here and get ourselves wasted out of our minds." The older doctor assured; Wilson hadn't changed a bit.

"Let's get out of here…" "I can't." Wilson said softly sorrowfully. House propped himself onto the bed, causing Wilson to scoot over. "Of course you can; you made this world," the older doctor whispered, "all you have to do is close your eyes and wish it away." Understanding what House meant, the oncologist closed his eyes followed House's command. The entire hospital began to collapse around them: from the basement where Chase and Cameron's bodies laid to the roof where House had confronted the demons within Wilson, everything evaporated around the two doctors as they lost consciousness.

_'It'll all be a bad dream…' Wilson murmured into House's ear, 'You better be there; I didn't do all that shit for nothing…' House spat back with a grin._

Wilson woke up first while House dozed off on his own. The oncologist stepped out of the bed, sleeves still covered in blood and arms still connected. After carefully extracting the syringes, Wilson wondered out of the secret room, looked outside and took a deep breath of freedom; they were back. Everything in PPTH looked just as it always did: patients going in and out while doctors and nurses did their work.

He could even see House's team already at work once he went into the balcony. Cuddy herself was doing her rounds, looking for the diagnostician to slap some Clinic duty to him. The oncologist looked back into the concealed room and smiled softly; everyone had a clean (or in House's case, minimally stained) slate. The nightmare was over…for now.


	27. Joke Ending: Game

A/N: The Joke ending is just me poking fun at the whole fanfic...enjoy! Reviews are welcome! Disclaimer: I don't own anything

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Ending 6: Joke: Game

Much to House's horror, inside the secret room was nothing: no Wilson. It was a trap and House had blindly fallen into it. Monsters ranging from the gray children, to the straightjackets and nurses, to even the mermaid Stacy and Pyramid Head were closing in on him, all wanting to feast on his flesh. House's heart raced; he only had a couple of bullets left and there was no way out. Suddenly, he heard Wilson yelled, "SON OF A BITCH!"

The yell made House snap back to reality, his mind foggy with monster nurses and dead Cuddys along with his impending death. He was in Coma Guy's room, sitting on the recliner while Wilson sat on the other side. In the oncologist's hands was a wireless DualShock 2 controller along with a strategy guide. "What the…?"

"Oh, welcome back, House." Wilson greeted him mindlessly, his concentration focused on the videogame he was playing. "Wha happened?" "You fell asleep after I dosed you so I could play this stupid game…goddammit! Now I have to start this area all over again!" the younger doctor explained a little frustrated. House quickly regained composure and inquired, "And what game is it?" "Silent Hill, why?"

Noting that it was all a dream induced by the game, House snatched the controller away from the oncologist's grip. "Because you're doing this part all wrong. You're supposed to get the key from the piano, you idiot." Wilson rolled his eyes; he knew he would never be able to play again unless Cuddy came in and dragged him back to Clinic Duty or Foreman came in with a case for him to solve.

Wilson stood up from his seat but before he left, he dove straight to House ear and said under his breath, "You better behave or I'm sending you back to the fog world and I think the Pyramid-Headed monster would love to meet you again." House instantly paled, dropped the controller and looked straight into Wilson's brown eyes; he wasn't lying. Taking no time to turn off the PlayStation 2, the diagnostician sped off towards his office. Wilson chuckled as he took back the controller and resumed playing; he had never seen House run so fast.


End file.
